Outbreak
by xXMXx
Summary: On the night of the senior prom, a killer virus spread across America. Now, eight months later, a handful of survivors must band together to battle the deadly infection and the even deadlier victims. Troyella, Chaylor. See Trailer. COMPLETE.
1. The Synopsis

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**Summary;** On the night of the senior prom, a killer virus spread across America. Now, eight months later, a handful of survivors must band together to battle the deadly infection and the even deadlier victims.

**Disclaimer;** All HSM-ness belongs to Disney, the rest is all mine!

**Rating;** T, For violence and mild language.

**Pairings;** Chaylor, Troyella.

**

* * *

A/N; **_**There was a trailer here but I really didn't like it. In its place, I've decided I'd much rather a detailed synopsis that wont give away too much of the story. So;

* * *

**_

Eight months after a disastrous prom, Troy, Chad, Gabriella and Taylor are surviving in a changed world. Living their lives in fear, they have managed to avoid the infection, but struggle every day against those who weren't as fortunate. The infected are no longer like the people they once were. They feed on human flesh. And their killer diet puts all survivors at risk. There is no hope for a cure or for salvation, but that doesn't stop our high school gang from refusing to give in. However, with the virus on their doorstep and danger around every corner, it is only a matter of time before things take a turn for the worse…

I suppose it's mainly action and possibly horror but there is also a lot of romance and friendship. My focus is on their independence and how they adapt and work together in a treacherous world without adults.

Sharpay _is _in it. And, in a way, so is Ryan.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_**xX M Xx**_


	2. The Dilemma

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**Summary;** On the night of the senior prom, a killer virus spread across America. Now, eight months later, a handful of survivors must band together to battle the deadly infection and the even deadlier victims.

**Disclaimer;** All HSM-ness belongs to Disney, the rest is all mine!

**Rating;** T, For violence and mild language.

**Pairings;** Chaylor, Troyella.

**

* * *

1. The Dilemma

* * *

**

_We interrupt this broadcast to announce breaking news. _

_The president has declared a state of national emergency as scientists confirm that a mutated outbreak of the 'lyssa' virus, more commonly known as rabies, is sweeping the nation. The fatal illness, which was accidentally exposed to humans in a testing facility in California, is said to turn sufferers into what witnesses can only describe as 'savage cannibals'. In a shocking turn of events this afternoon, infected human beings began to devour the flesh of other_ living_ people. Sufferers are also said to sprout animal-like claws and fangs. Additional symptoms involve dilated pupils, fever, violent behaviour and frothing at the mouth. If you have been bitten, or are experiencing such symptoms, seek medical attention immediately. If not, you are advised to stay indoors and avoid anyone who may have had exposure to the virus at all costs. Although it has not been verified yet, it is evident that we have entered the stages of a widespread epidemic. _

_Wishing you a safe evening, this is Kylie Rainer reporting for Channel 4 News. Goodnight… And good luck._

**Eight months later…**

Caught in a vice like the deadly grip of an anaconda. Choking. Suffocating. The strong grasp around Troy's neck and chest was slowly rendering him breathless. The merciless hands wrenched their way around his body, squeezing him so tightly he had a flittering thought that he might just implode. Perhaps his bones would shatter and cave in on themselves. Or his internal organs might shrivel into an empty nothing. His initial panic at the surprise attack from behind was quickly snuffed by months of experience and, although powerless to the strong hold he was under, his time-established survivor's instinct kicked in almost instantly. The convulsion-like thrashing of his body was enough to loosen the arms that entrapped him. However his momentary advantage was quickly overthrown as, in one swift motion, he was hurled violently to the ground and spun around to face his attacker.

He collided with the dusty, wooden floor with a bone-cracking thud. All remaining air in his lungs was pushed outward in a pained sigh. His head made an impact with the floor, dizzying him with a single, hard, blunt blow just above where his spine met his skull. Above him, the ceiling distorted in shape and colour as the corners of his vision blurred. There was no time for him to recover. He'd barely sucked in a desperate gulp of air before a heavy load was placed on his abdomen. It didn't take him long to realise that his attacker was on top of him.

The hands returned to his neck. And this time, not even his frantic writhing could free him. Rather than choke him, the callous grip only held him down, pinning his shoulders to the ground.

Eyes; dark with fury, entered his vision. His heart experienced an uncharacteristic flutter at what he saw next. Teeth. Mouth open and teeth drawn like a mass of white knives. With an animal-like growl, the eager jaws came plummeting towards him. More specifically; towards his exposed neck.

He knew it was over when he felt the hot breath tickle his shoulder. He knew then that no amount of protest would save him. His fate was sealed. The darkness was coming. Soon, he'd be one of _them_.

With a defeated sigh, he nodded in surrender. "Okay." He mumbled with a tinge of shame at his failure. "You got me, Chad. You win." As usual.

Not at all surprised by this outcome, Chad seemed almost as disappointed as Troy. He leaned backwards to distance his mouth from Troy's neck. Worn out from the scuffles exertion, he remained where he sat; straddling the waist of his exhaustedly panting friend. Troy propped his legs upward so his feet rested flat on the floor and his knees jutted up to the ceiling to allow Chad a backrest.

"Think you got a bit carried away this time." Troy remarked with sarcasm. "A little too convincing." His hand travelled to his neck where Chad had left a light sheen of saliva and he rubbed the damp spot with disapproval. His fingers then continued upward until they reached the back of his head where a small bump was forming from his collision with the floor. "You really hurt my head, as well." He added, pushing on it to determine the tenderness of the bruise.

Chad dismissed the complaints with a careless shrug. "Don't be such a wimp." He gave Troy a gentle slap on the cheek before clumsily clambering to his feet. Once standing, he held a hand out to his floor-bound friend whilst simultaneously flashing one of his most innocent 'forgive me' grins. "What were you doing in here anyway?"

Troy took the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled upright, his aching body groaning in protest at the movement. He brushed the dust from his faded and torn black shorts before answering; "I was looking for a snack."

Chad's audible gulp of dread went unnoticed as Troy crossed the large, dark room to continue his interrupted quest.

The place in which the boys resided was a moderately sized apartment in the north of Albuquerque. Before finding it, most of their searches for a place to stay had been fruitless simply due to the damage caused in the riots after the initial panic. It was certainly far from luxury but at least it was intact. Not to mention it's remoteness and Chad's unsubstantiated observation that it was 'completely zombie-proof'.

It was quite similar to a warehouse with its dusty wooden floors and huge, steel sliding door. There were only three rooms; a bedroom, an _en suite_ bathroom and the room which the boys currently occupied. This was the main room of the apartment; damp and sparsely decorated. Dark, metal pillars held up the ceiling and the rotting wooden floor was decorated only with a stained and fraying rug. There was a couch in the centre of the floor, a low coffee table and a small kitchenette area in the corner. There was no electricity and the only running water was cold and sometimes dirty. On alternating nights, either Troy or Chad would have to sleep on the couch due to the fact they only had one bed. The windows were boarded up with stubborn, rotting wood which only allowed narrow streams of light to penetrate and, because there was no air conditioning, it often got overpoweringly stuffy. The darkness and the heat could get oppressive but they were used to it by now. And although the place had its problems, it was theirs. It was safe. And it was home.

Chad watched now in growing apprehension as Troy reached the crumby surface that signified the start of the kitchen. With each small cupboard that was opened, only to be closed upon being found empty, Chad tried to formulate a believable excuse. He could think of nothing. And, from the frenzy with which Troy was now foraging through each and every corner of the kitchen, he could tell that no kind of explanation would save him from one hell of a lecture. At the very least. He began to chew nervously on his bottom lip as he imagined the curious and angry frown forming on Troy's face. Suddenly, those last few cans of pineapple chunks didn't taste so great. Definitely not worth the trouble he was about to get into for finishing them.

Troy's stern voice came at once. "You ate it all, didn't you."

It wasn't a question at all. Troy knew. And Chad didn't even attempt to deny it. While Troy remained with his back to him, Chad shuffled his feet nervously like a scorned child. Their relationship was somewhat different to how it had been at high school. Because of the way things were, someone had to take on the role of the responsible one. Otherwise, they would never have survived. That someone, it was one day decided, was Troy. So, while Chad enjoyed and revelled in the adventure of the action film-like situation, Troy delved into the world of being sensible.

He wasn't boring or strict. He was the same Troy. He and Chad were just as close, if not closer, in their bond as brothers. However, if needs be, Troy could make and enforce rules. For their safety, of course. And for their survival. He could switch quite suddenly from playful friend to disciplinary parent figure. That wasn't to say that Chad always agreed with what he said. But he had the common sense that they both needed to get by. And Chad found something about that quite comforting.

"You finished off our last bit of food."

Behind the folds of his hooded, navy blue jumper, the muscles of Troy's back tensed. His hands gripped the surface in front of him and his knuckles whitened as he squeezed the stiff plastic. Then, suddenly, he turned to face his guilt-ridden friend. Like he usually did when frustrated, he bunched up his sleeves so they came to just below his elbows before throwing his hands onto his hips. He looked even more now like a reprimanding father and Chad, not prepared to take such patronising chastisement from a person of his own age, raised a challenging eyebrow in rebellion as if to say; 'Yeah? So what?'.

A stranger watching the boys may have presumed that a fight was about to ensue. They were both quite daunting with their muscular figures and badly suppressed annoyance. To anyone that didn't know them, they may even have seemed threatening. They had grown a lot since high school, both in physicality and in maturity. Out of necessity, their physical form had changed to transform them into muscled men. They'd always been athletic due to the sports they took part in at school. However, to survive they had to be strong, which meant that they dedicated time each day to keeping themselves in the best physical condition possible. They weren't pumped-up steroid hulks but they were no longer the lean, slim boys they had once been. They were warriors.

"We were gonna save it." He continued with exasperation.

Troy stood now, with his balled fists shoved fiercely into his pockets, at an impressive height of almost six foot. The hood of his dark jumper rested halfway over the crown of his head, covering the subtle spikes of his shorter hair. A few stray locks hung to halfway down his forehead in such a way that they seemed to be pointing at his clear, idyllic eyes and his cheeks and chin were shadowed with the beginnings of a neglectful stubble. The scarred, bare skin of his toned chest was exposed beneath a low-cut, white vest which he wore under the un-zipped hoodie to match his white and grey Converse. His outfit of found items of clothing was finished off with a pair of black cargo shorts which hung loosely around his waist.

"I was hungry." Finally came Chad's inadequate explanation.

Chad too had changed in appearance in the months since high school. His hair; no longer framing his face or hanging in uncontrollable curls over his eyes, was drawn back into a loose and puffy ponytail. On his top lip, a thin moustache had formed and dripped neatly from the corners of his mouth into a stubbly goatee. He wore only black now; black jeans, black Adidas sneakers and a tight, black t-shirt decorated on the front with the bold white words 'I was told to grin and bear it'. All black. This was for no reason other than his warped theory that black clothes never got dirty. In his opinion, the longer he wore them, the stronger they got. Consequently, he had not once had to undergo the chore of washing clothes.

Troy tilted his head to the side, as if expecting more. When he received no further justification he looked around him as if it would be found within the deep cracks of the walls or between the sofa cushions. "That's it?" He asked with a disbelieving shrug when his search proved unsuccessful. "That's all you have to say?"

His chest rose and fell heavily as he tried to keep his bubbling frustration and panic hampered down. His cold, blue eyes cast a penetrating gaze through Chad who was currently trying to maintain his feigned lack of bother. "You do realise," he continued. "We're gonna have to go out now for fresh supplies."

Chad shrugged. The thought had occurred to him but hadn't yet sunk in. It had been so long since they had needed to go outside. Something in him kind of _wanted _to leave the uncertain safety of the indoors.

"_Out._" Troy reiterated. Both hands pointed at the door for emphasis. "Out there."

'Out there' wasn't a place one ventured often. In fact, it was a place to be avoided at all costs. Street after street of heart-breaking, abandoned ruins and remains. Ominously dark empty buildings whose photo frames and rotting furniture told the history of its forcibly departed inhabitants. Motionless roads, black with ashes, and silent as if frozen in time. It was a ghost town. Disturbingly tranquil. Wrong. And besides, _they _were out there. Which made it a perilous, deadly war-zone. _They_ were danger. _They _were--

"It's not _that _bad." Chad dismissed, already grabbing his bag from where it lay prepared, propped up by the door. In a way, he was even excited. The prospect of stepping outdoors, after so long of being cooped up in stuffy darkness, was becoming an increasingly agreeable idea.

Troy, on the other hand, could barely believe his ears. He too hated their confinement to the indoors but he'd rather remain in there than kill himself by leaving. "Not that bad?" Chad seemed to have forgotten their last trip to the nearest supermarket. They had barely made it back alive.

There was an indescribable danger that lurked outdoors. Waiting. For fresh meat. You see; those who were unfortunate enough to be infected by what experts called Lyssacarnis, did not die as expected. They became monsters in a human shell. With no emotions. No memories. Just a hunger. Something in the mutation of the virus gave them an undeniable appetite for flesh. Human flesh. And so they devoured any person they could find. Like savages. And they were out there. Everywhere. In their hundreds. Thousands. In fact, as far as Troy and Chad knew from their months of isolation, they were the only two normal people left. They were the only survivors. And, for that reason, it was in their best interests to avoid putting themselves in danger of those cannibalistic beasts. Savages.

As any sane person would be, Troy was afraid of the Savages. He wasn't too shy to admit it either. His biggest fear however, was not that his life would be prematurely ended by one of the beastly creatures, but that he would _become _one. He'd rather die than have his life take such a disgraceful turn. One bite and, like a vampire, he'd be transformed.

"_Not that bad_?" He repeated, still stunned by disbelief. Chad didn't seem to care about their welfare or about the future. Either that or time had wiped his memory of the dangers that he claimed weren't 'that bad'. Then another idea came to Troy's mind. "Hold on." He thought aloud, hoping that his assumption would be wrong. "You _want _to go outside. Don't you?"

Chad knew what answer Troy wanted. Unfortunately, it wasn't one he could truthfully give. "What, and you don't?"

To Chad, this unique opportunity was not one to be passed up while rotting away indoors. There were zombies out there- or close enough- ready to be battled with. His and Troy's fantasies of being superheroes could finally come true as they conquered evil or at least died trying. But, no. They had to play it safe. Hide in the dark like cowards. They were surviving. But at what cost? They'd lost their freedom. Their dignity. And, if this was how they were going to continue living, Chad would rather die.

"Of course I don't." Troy answered incredulously. He had a confusedly wild look about him as his mouth gaped and eyebrows rose as far as they could. "Do you know the chances of us coming back alive?"

Chad shrugged. He didn't. And he didn't care to know either. "But that's all part of the fun." To die like a soldier in war. It was honour.

"Fun." Troy wished he could rewind time and replay that moment, just to check if he had _actually _heard that absurd word.

Chad nodded in unwanted confirmation. "Yeah," he answered with growing enthusiasm. "The adventure."

In anguished reply, Chad was met with an overly exaggerated roll of the eyes and a dismal shake of the head. Troy was unsure of why they were arguing as he knew they would eventually have to go out anyway. The sad truth of it was that they were out of food and, unless they braved the outdoors, they would starve. Not to mention the fact that this was the exact argument he and Chad had had no more than a month ago when their supplies had, like now, run dangerously low. The outcome was always the same.

Both of them defeated, the urgency of their discussion died down and Chad heaved a tired sigh. "I'm bored, Troy." He admitted solemnly. In way of entertainment in their household, there simply was none. "_Dying_ of boredom. I can't cope locked up in here like…" he paused broodingly. "Like… the Lady of Shallot-."

Troy cut in, although not at all interested in who he presumed Chad had just made up. "Who?"

"Exactly." Chad gasped in explanation. "Do you know what I did this morning to pass the time?" It was rhetorical and he continued without pause. "I counted the hairs on the back of my hand." As if for confirmation, he raised his hand for Troy to see. "Fifteen times." He added with a desperate exasperation. "Fifteen times, Troy."

Troy tried and failed to suppress his smile. "Really?" He chuckled with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah." Chad was less than impressed by the lack of expected empathy. "There's seventy-two."

Inquisitively, Troy raised his own hand so it was a few inches from his face and inspected it with scrutiny. He'd never thought about it before but, now that he had taken a close look, he found that his hand was actually relatively bald. Certainly without enough hair to match Chad's impressive seventy-two. He wondered also what the hair on ones hand could say about their character, and if it said anything at all. Did the fact that Chad had more hair mean that he was more of a man? Or perhaps he was more primitive? And, what exactly is the purpose of—

"Troy!"

Troy looked up to see an unimpressed Chad waving at him as if to break him out of a daze. In realisation of his derailed train of thought, he dropped his hand to his side and made a quick mental note to count his own finger hairs when he got the chance. Then, to get straight back on track, he presented a forward and daring question. "So you're not afraid to die?" He asked through analysing, narrow eyes.

He was almost afraid of the answer because he knew what it would be. He hadn't decided yet whether Chad was extremely brave, naïve or just stupid. He hoped for one of the latter two because, considering the first; that Chad welcomed death out of courage, made him feel very cowardly.

"You never know," Chad unintentionally avoided the question, not realising its significance to Troy's state of mind. "The Savages coulda died off weeks ago," he began to spout one of his supposedly-thought-out notions which he made a habit of coming up with when not occupied with trivial things like hair counting or exercise. "And we just don't know 'cos we're in here."

Barely listening and disappointed at not receiving an answer to his question, Troy bluntly rejected Chad's latest idea. "I don't think so somehow."

Chad wasn't at all deterred by Troy's lack of enthusiasm. He was off now, on an unlikely-theory tangent. "Or maybe we'll find another group of survivors." He gasped excitedly at his own words as if the outrageous thought had just occurred to him. His face was decorated with a child-like grin and eager, sparkling eyes. "Can you imagine that? Like, maybe we'd even find people we knew. Maybe we'll find-."

He suddenly silenced, mentally chiding himself for allowing such a thought. His smile dropped as his excitement instantly dissipated. Although fully aware that he had gotten carried away with himself, Troy's reproving eyes told him so anyway. Chad had just done the unforgivable. He had broken their most important unspoken rule. He had reminded them of who they had left behind.

They hadn't seen Gabriella or Taylor in eight months. Not since that night. Not since the night of the outbreak. In the panic of it all, they had been separated. The girls were lost in the sea of stampeding people; a mixture of the healthy and the infected. And, where the boys managed to escape, Taylor and Gabriella were dragged into the very heart of it. Helpless. They had no chance.

In events like that, people often describe it as a blur. Troy wished the same could be said for him. He remembered every detail. Every single detail. He remembered how beautiful she'd looked that night. How her eyes sparkled as they danced. Her soft warm, hand being torn from his. The very last time they would touch. Her terrified screams. Those desperate pleading eyes. He'd think about her defencelessness. How she'd so frantically needed him. And how he hadn't saved her. He didn't manage to rescue her.

These thoughts never left him. Not even in sleep. There was no escape from the memories. The harsh silence was unbearable in its way of making them think and Troy, finding it overpoweringly unforgiving, spoke simply for the sake of making noise.

"You armed?" He asked.

Chad opted for a wordless response to lessen the chances of any more unwanted comments slipping out and simply tapped a bulge at the side of his waistband. The guilt could be read on his face, even from where Troy stood on the other side of the room. Chad's eyes had darkened and his brow was furrowed in a concentrated frown.

What Troy didn't realise was that Chad's bravery was a front. It was to make up for the spinelessness that had cost his girlfriend's life. His fearlessness of death was simply out of a lack of anything to live for. And his eagerness for adventure was just to take his mind off of Taylor. He hated himself. For being a coward. A failure. He fled and left her. And not a day went by that he didn't want to kill himself for that. He often wondered if he deserved to live. After leaving her for dead, what right did he have to survive? He'd let fear overrun him and now, she was gone. It was his fault.

In a matter of seconds, the atmosphere around them had changed from one of apprehension and excitement to one of intense regret and self-loathing. Suddenly, their suicidal mission seemed like less of an unspeakable idea. In fact, Troy was feeling up for anything to take his mind elsewhere. Maybe an adventure was what he needed.

He crossed the room and snatched up the bag that Chad had prepared for him. It was empty but for a bottle of water, a torch and his weapon of choice. The rest of the space in the oversized backpack was for food. They had no other way of transporting it.

Chad allowed a small smile at his triumph in silently persuading Troy. Then, he began to unbolt the many mechanisms that locked the door. Each echoed clunk of the rusted metal brought a daunting burst of reality with it. Once they were outside, anything could happen. It was only now starting to dawn on them that this may be the last time they stood together in their apartment. This may be the last choice they'd ever make.

The final lock was unlatched. All that stood between them and danger was an inch of steel. Chad couldn't stifle the trembling of his hand as he reached, almost in slow motion, for the door handle. He clasped the iron bar tightly, took a deep breath and began to pull.

"Wait!" Troy put a firm and urgent hand on Chad's shoulder.

Chad turned to look inquisitively at his friend over his shoulder but did not release the door handle from his grip.

Troy was unsure of why he had stopped Chad. He felt that, perhaps they needed to say goodbye. And perhaps they should also bid farewell to their abode. To step out there so suddenly without any goodbyes— it just felt wrong. Because, chances were, they'd never come back here.

"If we die…" He started quietly. He avoided Chad's gaze by picking a stray thread on the strap of his bag. He wanted to tell Chad how great a friend he had been. He wanted to say that there was nobody in the world that he would rather have spent the last eight months with. He wanted to tell Chad that, had it not been for him; his best-friend, his brother, he probably would have given up hope a long time ago. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the words.

Chad rolled his eyes impatiently and turned back to the door. "We won't." He replied frankly. He knew what Troy had wanted to say, simply because he felt the same. He just wanted to spare his friend the torture of having to express it all aloud. And he wasn't really in the mood for a soppy departure.

With no need for further hesitation, Chad began to pull on the heavy steel with both hands. It slid open with a churning and reluctant moan. And now there was no barrier. They were out. Alone. With no walls to hold them. No locks to protect them. No certainty of their own futures. They were out. And anything could happen.

* * *

**A/N: **I was so pleased to get all those reviews and story alerts! Special thanks to those who submitted reviews; **corbinsbabygrl1, MUW D'Bellegirl, chaylorXtraylorlover101, 2pinkstar and 7blackberry**(the Zac Efron ice-cream was much appreciated :P), **xAdorkablex48, lilmissmonique **and** ChaylorTwilightQueen10**. You all have my unconditional love!

Continue to share your views. Any input is appreciated; positive, negative, advice, complaints, corrections... anything!

_**xX M Xx**_


	3. The Beginning

**Outbreak**

**

* * *

2. The Beginning

* * *

**

Taylor somehow managed to contain the pained yelp that jumped up in the back of her throat, but she could not mask the wince in her eyes. Nor could she suppress the troubled shudder that momentarily passed through her body. And she was unsuccessful in her attempts to blink back the sparkle of brimming tears. I apologised with great remorse as her hand left mine to gently dab the solitary drops of salt water that threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes. She mumbled a hollow reply but failed to meet my gaze.

I wasn't apologising for stepping on her toe for the eleventh time in this unsuccessful waltz. And my apology was not for the waste of time and money she had spent on a pedicure that I had surely maimed by now. Of course, I was truly sorry for those things but, compared to the _real _problem at hand, they were nothing. No, the real reason she was on the brink of tears was far graver and, although I tried to hide it, it was hurting me too.

Tonight. It was meant to be our night. But it was a disaster. How could we have fun in the knowledge that in a few short weeks we'd be separated forever? We were both being realistic about graduation, knowing full well that we were taking completely different paths in life. Our clumsy waltz was half-hearted. Our eyes seldom met. Neither of us had worn a genuine smile. And this would be the last real memory we'd have together. Our night to remember.

The blissful music faded and we slowed our choreographed spiralling. She turned her attention to gaze carelessly around her, already having lost interest in me. I heaved a disappointed sigh and followed her wandering line of sight to the left of us.

Troy and Gabriella were still dancing, staring lovingly into each others eyes as if oblivious to the entire world around them. I couldn't help but feel jealous at how perfect things were for them. Gabriella had driven miles from Stanford tonight just so she could be with him. They may have been going to colleges that were worlds away from each other but something told me that no distance could ever lessen their love for one another. Taylor and I on the other hand, were already drifting apart. Her hands were in mine but we had never been so isolated. She may as well have been across the room.

A calm melody of harps and violins swelled into a slow, romantic tune. Something awkward suddenly surrounded us as all the couples in the auditorium got closer. It was as if we didn't know each other. We were strangers forced to dance together in a room full of established relationships. Everything was wrong.

"Do you wanna sit down?" She was looking at her feet and already pulling away from me.

I knew it would be easier if I just said yes. No good would come of prolonging our inevitable separation. But I couldn't bring myself to let the night end like this. Because I knew that it would be something I'd regret forever.

I shook my head. "No." I replied, pulling her back towards me.

Clearly surprised by my unexpected reply, she half-stumbled into my caring hold. I didn't give her a chance to protest or comment, instead going with my instinct and wrapping both arms around her tense body so my hands rested on the small of her back. She frowned at me with scepticism and uncertainty as if such intimacy was foreign between us, before resting her hands stiffly on my upper arms. We swayed then, still with a gap between us of about a foot and her eyes remained fixated on one of the buttons of my white tuxedo. My fingers toyed nervously with the purple silk of her dress as I considered my next move.

Our silence was devastating. It proved what I had feared. We were no longer drifting apart. We were stuck. Far away from each other. And my greatest fear was that there would be no turning back. My heart broke every time I looked at her, at the thought that I would probably only ever see her gorgeous face again in pictures. Lifeless pictures which wouldn't be able to come up with witty retorts like she did or state random statistics like she did. And I was kidding myself I ever thought we'd call each other. She was going far. She had plans. And she didn't need me.

It took me a moment to realise that she was no longer lightly swaying to the music. Stopping my own relaxed movements, I looked questioningly into her eyes to find that she was staring blankly ahead, clearly deep in thought. She blinked away the haze of contemplation and her weary eyes met mine.

Despite her evident sadness, she was still beautiful as ever. Her short, shiny hair framed her flawless face and her skin had a natural glow about it. With both sincerity and unshed tears, her warm brown eyes twinkled and set my heart in an unsteady rhythm. She looked like an angel in her prom dress. My angel.

My fixatedly adoring gaze must have perturbed her because she quickly looked away. And, as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop. Perhaps I was making her uncomfortable, but I suddenly felt I had to absorb every inch of her so she'd remain in my memory like this forever. I wanted to be able to shut my eyes ten years from now and still be able to picture the colour of her lip gloss. Still remember the scent of her perfume as if she was right there with me. Still feel the warmth of her skin gently radiating through the soft fabric of her dress.

Unbeknown to me, I was unconsciously pulling her closer, in a final act of needy desperation. For want of her intimacy. She shot me an inquisitive frown with hints of what I'm sure was desire. A flash of a playful smile that subtly twisted the corners of her lips sent euphoric shivers down my spine. I didn't stop pulling her to me until her body was pressed so closely to mine that our rapid and exhilarated heartbeats had merged into one synchronised rhythm.

Before I knew it, her lips were on mine. I was enveloped in a tender warmth as her arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt her smile against my mouth and instantly wanted to witness her joy. I drew back almost regretfully to watch as a dazzling grin spread over her brightening face. At that moment, I didn't need to tell her how much I loved her. I knew that just our blissful smiles were enough. We were motionless. Entwined. In a sea of dancing bodies. In the middle of a swirling whirlwind of colour and laughter. Just the two of us.

"Hey." Troy cleared his throat to get my attention. I hadn't even noticed him approaching.

He stood beside me and Taylor with Gabriella at his side. She had her hand in his and was resting her head comfortably on his shoulder. They both had a perceptively contented look about them and were eyeing Taylor and me with a sort of modest understanding.

Gabriella gave me a sincere look and began to speak. "Do you mind if I steal Taylor for a second?" She asked kindly.

I didn't want to be torn from my girlfriend, having only just re-established the love I thought was lost, but nodded understandingly. Gabriella grinned with gratitude and took Taylor's hand and the girls wandered towards the refreshments, chattering in their usual excited way. I was left with Troy and we regarded each other for a silent moment of empathy.

"This prom isn't so bad after all." He said quietly.

We looked together, out at the strangely empty auditorium. It hadn't been the best turn-out; half of the expected guests not arriving due to some bug that was going around, but I had to agree with him. It certainly was a night to remember.

There came a sudden pounding at the emergency exit doors. Hush fell among us as we listened in both curiosity and an underlying ounce of apprehension. The music was turned down as Kelsi; the DJ, strived to hear the rapid and continuous thuds. Mr. Matsui called over the banging that the entrance was around the other side of the school, but the urgent noise did not cease. It sounded as if a thousand wretched hands were clawing at the door, desperate to get in. Troy and I looked at each other and we both felt the instant, unspoken urgency to reunite with our girlfriends. Taylor and Gabriella must have had the same idea as I could already see them slowly making their way back towards us.

When confident that I'd soon be back with Taylor, I allowed my line of sight to travel back to the door. I was just in time to see Matsui, with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, give in and reach for the door handle. Something in me wanted to yell out. Make him stop. But then, where was the logic in that? Chances were, someone had arrived late and had chosen the wrong entrance. Although, what would explain the strangely ominous feeling that loomed over me and, from the look on everyone else's faces; them too?

I heard the screams first. Blood-curdling cries like the shrill call of a dying animal. Like _hundreds_ of dying animals. And then the trample of frantic feet. A stampede of frenzied people. They flooded through the open door like a tsunami, swallowing Matsui whole. Moving so fast, they were nothing but a blur with the odd panicked face and bloodied hands registering in my vision every once in a while. A smell of dirt and terror darkened the air as the room was filled at an inhuman speed.

I was suddenly surrounded by a mass of moving bodies and my confused state was swept away by their frenzy. I began to run against the strong current in the direction I had last seen Taylor. To my great relief, Troy was close beside me.

"There!" I heard him shout as his arm waved in the air above the crowd, pointing down into somewhere in the madness.

An elbow caught my ribs and I was momentarily winded. Troy struggled ahead of me. Through the maze of chaos, my eyes caught Gabriella's. I'd never seen such fear. Troy was holding her desperately by the wrist. They were attempting to get closer to each other. If they could only break through that barrier; that rapid and uncontrollable stream of crazed people. They were screaming, voiceless. And even in the blur of flurry I could see their desperation to be close. Gabriella's gaze never left Troy's. She was being pushed and shoved as the crowd surged around her. Her mouth was open as she shrieked unheard prayers. Tears of mascara streamed down her face.

I couldn't stand still. My feet were constantly moving as I struggled to keep my balance. I swayed this way and that unable to resist against the overpowering current. The screams around me joined into a deafening roar. But over it all, I could hear Taylor calling my name.

I looked frantically from left to right. Then left again, right again. Her voice was full of plea. But I just couldn't see her. I called out to her but my voice was lost amongst the many bellowing others. My view was clouded by disarray. It was only when I focused on my surroundings that I realised the extent of our situation.

This wasn't a riot. A riot that had gotten out of control was my only logical explanation to it all. But, no. This was something far worse. This was a massacre. Blood was literally spurting in all directions, flying upward in red bursts like a multitude of tiny fountains. Bodies went limp as they were clawed at, bitten and torn to shreds. Before long, I realised that the ground was no longer hard wood beneath my feet. I discovered I was stood on a carpet of people. Innocent people. People I knew. People I'd been in classes with, stood behind in the lunch queue. Even people I'd played basketball with. Dead. Slaughtered. And their killers were all around me.

Troy yelled out with anguish and frustration and pain. In a sudden surge of commotion, his grip had been violently torn from Gabriella's. And in a split second, she had disappeared into the mayhem. I could see him trying to relocate her; about to dive into the mess after her, and knew I had to stop him. Before we fell victim too.

I reached out uneasily and took him by the shoulders. "We have to get out of here!" I yelled.

He shook his head hysterically and tore away. I grabbed him again, forcefully. "We need to get to safety!" I told him. "We'll find them. We just have to get t--!"

Troy reeled back suddenly, out of my hands once more. This time though, it was through no choice of his own. A petite girl had launched herself out of nowhere and hurtled, claw-like fingers first, into Troy's chest. She managed to rip his shirt and I vaguely saw drops of blood appearing on his skin as he winced and wheezed. The girl quickly recovered but rather than flee, she charged at Troy once again.

I didn't bother to think before lashing at her with my fist. She was small. Almost weightless. And I had misjudged my strength. Rather than stagger backwards or retreat as I had expected, she simply toppled to the floor. Into the merciless onslaught of trampling feet. She let out a final whimper as I watched her skull finally give way to the pressure of the stampede. A red stain encircled me and drowned my shoes in filth.

"Get to safety." Troy suddenly agreed, not taking his eyes from the pulp that was once Bridget Moore's head.

* * *

The smell of burning plastic and flesh lolled easily on the breeze. Save for the few peeping stars, the entire night sky had been blotted out by a mass of thick back pillars of smoke. They seemed to originate from a never-ending blaze which stretched as far as the eye could see on the shattered streets below. Sirens wailed from abandoned ambulances. Their pitiful calls were answered only by the shrill alarms of cars which had been ambushed or destroyed in a flustered haste. The fire roared and crackled and spat as it claimed another house. Another business. Another life.

A grey, powder of ash was swept into my eye and I blinked furiously. There was a sudden rush of cold that spread shivers from my neck through my arms, to the tips of my fingers. I clutched my blazer to me and tucked my knees closer to my chest. The concrete ground on which I sat was trembling beneath me and I felt disturbingly unstable. Standing at my side, Troy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly aching from his hours of standing but not yet ready to admit defeat to his sore feet.

We'd been on the roof of the school for over three hours. It had taken a lot of physical force and verbal persuasion to get Troy to abandon his search for Gabriella and flee with me to the small wooden door that had led us here. Exhausted, bruised and bleeding, we had fought perilously through the unpitying crowd, still vigilant for our missing girlfriends. We made it to a narrow, darkened stairway and followed it to its peak. The roof. Troy's sanctuary. From here, we had watched the night unfold from above. The chaos on the street slowly died down as the number of normal people remaining diminished. The roads were gridlocked and there was fire all around. Eventually, the continuous screams died down to an occasional gargled cry. By then we had become accustomed to the distant sound of yet another life being stolen.

We argued. He was still insistent that Gabriella and Taylor were down there somewhere. Alive. In need. At one point, I'd had to pin him down to the floor to stop him from bolting straight back downstairs to find them. He was hectic. With both fear and confusion. He hadn't had a chance to register what had happened. Hadn't realised just how much danger was out there. We couldn't go back, I told him. Because we'd never find them. And we'd end up dead ourselves. That didn't convince him. If anything, it only encouraged him further. He was insistent that we save them. He seriously thought he had a chance. So I changed my approach. Holding his ear to the door; our only safe route back down, I let him listen to the sounds from below. The cries of the living were muffled behind the door. The shrieks of the possessed were nothing but a stifled echo. And I told him we _would _find them. Dead. Mutilated. Bloody. Broken. That was enough to change his mind about returning to the warzone.

Not a word had been spoken between us since then. He'd glanced at me once with intense resentment but for the remainder of our time up here, his eyes had never left the street below. He was searching. As if he would see them. He was certain they'd be running out of the school doors at any second and he'd see them bounding, alive and unhurt, down the steps of the main entrance.

"You should sit down." I suggested gently. He didn't even seem to hear. "You need rest."

He looked as if he was considering arguing but nodded despite himself. He turned away from the disastrous view and sat beside me. Neither of us looked at each other. Instead, we gazed straight ahead, both deep in our own overpowering thoughts. Eventually, mine became so deep I had to voice them.

"I dated Bridget once."

The image of the distorted mask of her crushed face hadn't once left my memory. The way blood had seeped from her tear ducts and the tiny white shards of her skull that clung to her brown hair. The way her skin sagged like melted wax on a shattered skeleton and how her flesh drooped into a lazy smirk.

"I remember." Troy answered in a hoarse, quiet voice.

"She was just another cheerleader." I remarked, remembering the day she had approached me in the cafeteria with her posse of giggling friends and plucked up the courage to ask me out. I'd only said yes to be nice. We had nothing in common and the date was far from a success-- "But she was nice. All into the environment and stuff…"

In the corner of my vision, I saw Troy turn to look at me. I couldn't face him, out of fear of what he may see in my eyes, so continued to focus on the ground ahead of me.

"You didn't mean for her to fall." He told me.

No, I didn't. But I also didn't need to push her so hard. Did I even need to push her at all? Perhaps she wasn't attacking him, but clinging to him in an act of desperation. Maybe I'd got it wrong. Exaggerated. My eyes had played tricks on me and I'd acted too quickly. Without thinking. Just lashed out. And ended some poor girl's life.

"What's going on, Troy? What happened tonight?"

As if in answer, the wind heaved around us enticing the fire into a cacophonous growl. Amidst the whisper of the ashes, a few distant screams could still be heard. Then, the world around us fell into a quiet turmoil, to which there seemed no end.

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter for your reading pleasure. That was pretty dark, I must say. I hope you guys enjoyed it, although I feel the end of it is a bit rushed and there probably should have been more Troyella. Just so you know, there will be a few of these flashback chaps every once in a while to fill in the gaps from the past.Of course, I'd like to thank the special people whom I love so dearly; **chaylorXtraylorlover101****, corbinsbabygrl1, lilmissmonique, ChaylorTwilightQueen10, xAdorkablex48, Pandora147** and **ChocolatexChicaxCasey95**.

_**xX M Xx**_


	4. The Ambush

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**3. The Ambush

* * *

**

"Beans?"

The impatient whisper was the only sound to be heard within the empty supermarket. Here could be found aisle upon aisle of rotting groceries, abandoned trolleys and shelves of dusty tins and boxes. The check-out tills were without their usual, endless rhythm of beeps. The automatic doors failed to slide. Assistance was never offered by a keen member of staff and no tinny announcements were made to declare a spillage on aisle three. Excluding the hushed conversation that was currently taking place, the shop was utterly devoid of noise.

"I don't like beans." Was the blunt reply.

The words and tone were harsh but never reached a volume higher than an irritated hiss. Anything more would be enough to attract unwanted attention. Among other things, their enemies were equipped with inhumanly sensitive hearing to make up for their lack of sight. That, they had learned, was how they located their prey. So the argument was kept as quiet as possible.

"Could you stop being so awkward?"

Getting to the supermarket undetected had only been one of a great many hurdles. As well as being surrounded by the blind, wandering infected, it was miles away from their home, being the closest store still intact. Most of the food was in no condition to eat and, even if it was, they barely had the space in their bags to hold enough to last them long. And yet somehow, the lack of variety still managed to cause disagreements over what and what not to get.

"They make me feel sick." Gabriella pouted and clutched her stomach for emphasis.

The playfully childish expression on her face vastly contradicted her body and matured state of mind. The eight months had done little to change her physically but there was a wisdom in her eyes beyond her years. Her messy waves of long, dark hair hung way past her shoulders in two loose plaits held down by a khaki peaked beanie. She was dressed in a flattering, violet coloured woman's tracksuit with a discrete sparkled design and comfortable but shabby sneakers.

"And besides," she added as she let the strap of her oversized hiking backpack slide off her shoulder and into her hand. "There's no space left in the bag."

That was no lie. It was packed to capacity with tin cans and crumpled packets and bottles. They had grabbed whatever they could from the shelves, rarely questioning its taste or, even less important, number of calories. Getting food was no longer a matter of choice or opinion. It was vital. They had to make-do with anything they could get their hands on. Even if, like Gabriella, it could make them feel sick. But just _existing _on these tasteless, sickly rations was quickly losing appeal. And it was only now that Gabriella realised, she'd had enough.

Taylor reached for bag with impatience. In her other hand, she precariously balanced three tins of baked beans. "We'll make space." She stated adamantly.

With a concentrative frown on her face Gabriella pulled away. She looked upwards, like an animal suddenly aware of danger. Taylor too sensed an unseen, unheard threat and unknowingly edged closer to her friend.

"Come on, Gabi." She insisted, readopting the quiet whisper she had lost in the heat of the moment. "We don't have time--."

Gabriella put a finger to her lips.

The soft, padded sound of bare feet on the linoleum floor was barely audible even in the silence. Peering through the gaps in the shelves, the girls could just make out a dirty figure, roaming just an aisle away from them. If not for his blank, expressionless eyes, he may have seemed to be browsing the store. Looking for a meal. Little did he know that the meat he craved was nothing but a few feet away.

The Unspeakables were witless. They were creatures without brains, and with only one sole purpose; to feed. Something in the virus destroyed their sight so their eyes were nothing more than unnerving orbs of grey. Although still human in shape and face, the infected had an undeniably lifeless appearance. Their faded skin was dirty and drawn, hair hung in thin, wiry knots and limbs were bony and misshapen. They didn't walk. Rather, wander aimlessly with heavy, trudging footsteps. They didn't breathe, but inhaled ragged gasps of air like old asthmatics. Their backs were always hunched and their view-less gaze remained always on the ground. Their clothes were filthy and torn and stained with blood. A single look at them would give you the impression that they were fragile. Harmless, even. But this was them on stand-by. The slightest hint of food would send them into a rage and transform them completely.

When hunting, they were like animals. They snapped to life with a sudden urgency. They sprinted, although rabidly and without control, at an unbelievable pace. Their gangly arms flailed, brandishing the inch-long, dagger-like claws that armed each finger. They chattered their gleaming jaws with famine, resembling the madness of a killer shark, and all of their movements were wild and unpredictable. The biggest weapon by far, however, was their saliva.

If any of their saliva got into your bloodstream, you were done for. That was it. Your destiny was sealed. Either the thing would continue to devour you until you were nothing but bones, or you'd end up just like them. Infected. There was no cure.

Excluding the night of the outbreak, this was the closest either girl had been to an Unspeakable. A fear swelled in them like nothing else imaginable. The smell of death hung on his rancid breath.

Taylor and Gabriella shared a glance at each other and simultaneously began to back slowly away. Over the months, time together had established an unspoken connection where they could easily understand each other without words. That said, it wouldn't have taken a genius to know what they both had in mind. Escape.

The silent trip to the emergency exit was the longest and most strenuous walk they had ever endured, simply due to the care with which they had to take each and every step. When they finally reached the large, blue double-doors, their relief barely got a chance to exist.

Taylor pushed on the metal bar marked 'Push'. The door should have opened. It did not. She shot Gabriella a panicked look before pushing again. Gabriella peered out at the supermarket, praying that the door would open before they were found. Her prayer was declined. Instead, she received something that not even her nightmares could conjure up.

It was only a sound. But it was enough. Footsteps. But not just of the one man they had seen before. No, these were many feet. Sprinting feet. Pitter-pattering a freakish, frantic rhythm.

Taylor must have heard it too because she disregarded her attempts of staying silent and began to pound the metal bar that kept them from freedom. The echoes of her desperate, sobbing breaths and the constant thud, thud, thud each time her hands plummeted to the metal, reverberated through every crack of the building.

The footsteps were nearing now and hope was disappearing. Gabriella wondered how this had happened so suddenly. It was just another trip out to the shop. And now, out of nowhere, they were about to be eaten alive. The eight months she had spent, 'just existing' had shielded her from the ideas of death. Locked up in their home, surviving, she had slowly adopted the idea that, having survived for so long, being caught at all would be unlikely. She'd even had the ludicrous idea that maybe, just maybe, the virus would die. One day, everything would be back to normal. Because, if not, why was she bothering to stay alive?

"I'll fend them off." She declared to Taylor, her voice hard and sure.

They had made a pact, a long time ago, that if a situation like this did arise, they would not go down without a fight. No way.

"No…" Taylor protested, speaking a word between each powerful thrust at the door. "Gabi… run…. Find… another… way!"

Her hands were red by now, and throbbing due to the force at which she had been repeatedly driving them into the metal bar. Her frenzied movements had been enough to jar her jaw-length hair out of its neat-ish state, free of the thick headband that had held it back and it now clung to her sweaty forehead in frazzled wisps. She wore a tight, black t-shirt under a leather jacket that stopped around her waist. Her denim shorts were torn to a length above the knee and her feet were donned with sneakers similar to Gabriella's.

"I said… go!" She barked at an unmoved Gabriella.

The order went unheard. The Unspeakables were finally no longer just an approaching sound. They were visible now. Bounding, like rabid dogs, straight towards them. Gabriella reached for the baseball bat that was strapped to the top of her bag. It was heavy and wooden and sat uncomfortably in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she imagined herself, her fearless self, taking on this onslaught; beating them all down with one successful blow. Saving them both.

A quick count told her that there were six of them. The fearless version of herself, the one in her mind, disappeared. Now all she could see was a brutal death. The end of them both.

Taylor was crying with regret and fear. She didn't want her life to end here, like this. But what choice did she have? All she could hope for now is that they would finish her off and not let her become one of them.

A chorus of monstrous shrieks began to sound, merging with the footsteps into a song of impending death. It was almost as if they were celebrating a successful hunt. Or perhaps alerting others of their kind to a fresh catch.

Then there was another yelp behind Taylor and Gabriella fell to the ground at her feet. Following her with a regretful series of clattering clunks, was the unused baseball bat. Turning from the door finally, Taylor was met with the sight of six ravenous faces, eyeing her with desire. She risked a glance at Gabriella, who lay frighteningly motionless on the floor. A wound on her head was leaking blood onto the white linoleum and staining her hat. For a moment, Taylor cast a thought to what might have happened to her best friend while her back was turned.

She knew it was only a matter of time before one of the creatures gave in to the restrain of hesitation and went for her, but even as the closest one suddenly leapt into a lunge at her, she couldn't help but scream.

A black ghost blew past on a gust of wind and swept her attacker away. The smell of insect repellent was in the air and she could hear a familiar hissing noise. The shrieks returned. This time, not with triumph, but pain. And then the sound of quietening footsteps as the Unspeakables retreated in agony. In a matter of seconds, they disappeared into the foggy, white mist. She was left now with only the gargling of the savage that had lunged at her, writhing on the floor. He clutched his neck as it squirted random bursts of blood. Although blank, his eyes were frantic. And, at once, he seemed so vulnerable. Such chaos. Such fear.

Such confusion.

What had just happened? In the space of, at most, five seconds, she'd gone from near-death, to foggy bug spray and six injured enemies. Reluctantly, she told herself to make it make sense later. For now, she had to deal with this miracle advantage and get herself and Gabriella out of there. While they still could.

Looking to her feet, Gabriella's limp body was still there. The pool of blood around her head was much larger now and just seeing it made Taylor gasp. She had never seen Gabriella in such a dire state and her initial thought was that she may even be dead.

She wasn't sure how she planned on getting Gabriella all the way home but she decided she'd come up with it later. Bending down, she prepared herself to lift her friend.

Something pulled her upright. Only briefly, but when she looked down again, all that was left of Gabriella was a smeared blood puddle. Her heart stopped. Physically stopped. Her best-friend was gone. And she was so confused. And that loud pounding wasn't helping.

There was a cracking sound as the door gave way under the heavy, kicking foot of its assailant. Out of nowhere, something warm was in Taylor's hand and she was being pulled into the street.

She pulled away, looking frantically for her friend. Her hand was occupied again and, this time when she tried to pull away, she could not. Her arm was being tugged so hard that she had to follow. Either that or have it ripped off completely. But that did not stop her from writhing and screaming. There was no way she was leaving Gabriella. Whatever the hell was going on, she was not leaving Gabriella.

"We've got your friend." The deep voice came from the owner of the hand that was in hers.

Looking around her, she discovered that she was outside. There was a man beside her dressed in black and another in running in front with Gabriella hanging loosely in his arms. They were sprinting at a pace she never thought she could reach. A tug of the hand would pull her around corners, into darkened alleys and further from the main road. She stumbled at least seven times on the cracked pavement.

Not a word was spoken between her and her saviour. She found herself watching the back of the man ahead, making sure he was gentle with Gabriella. As adrenaline wore off, she found herself increasingly puzzled.

Who were these people? Where were they going? How had they found her? What had happened in the supermarket was starting to make sense. The black ghost had been the blur of this man. This man who, with his companion, had helped her and Gabriella escape by defeating the Unspeakables with… bug spray and by booting down the door that she could not open.

They'd been running forever. Her lungs were screaming. Her thoughts were screaming. All she could think was that there were other survivors. She even allowed a flittering thought to go to her boyfriend who, maybe wasn't dead as she presumed.

The man in black must have heard her gasping for air because he wrapped an arm around her and helped her to run. "Not far now." He assured her. She smiled, despite herself, finding comfort in his mellow tone and half-embrace.

The shadow of a large building darkened the pavement beneath her. And suddenly, the floor was no longer flat concrete. She was bounding up a flight of black, metal emergency exit stairs. Before she knew it, she was thrust carelessly against a wall as the man in black fumbled with a metal door. She bent at the hips, hands on her knees panting at the ground. The taste of blood swelled at the back of her chest and she could hear the unnaturally fast rhythm of her heartbeat in her ears. All of her limbs were on fire, her muscles screaming and the soles of her feet throbbing.

"Come on, man!"

She looked up to see the other guy looking around wildly. A navy blue bandana covered the lower half of his face, so all she could see were his darting eyes. He carried Gabriella with disregard, like she was a nothing more than a ragdoll in his muscled arms. She dangled from his hold, looking peacefully unaware of her situation. A thin trail of blood had formed a red line from one side of her temple, across her forehead and into her eye. Half of her khaki hat was stained crimson.

There was a churning as the door slid open and, in an instant, they were in. She was hit with humidity, darkness and a smell of damp. Behind her, the door was closed. And locked.

Gabriella's limp body was dumped carelessly on the faded sofa. Bandana-face sank to the floor, resting his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. His back heaved as he sucked in generous gulps of air.

"God, that was close." He repeated in an exhausted whisper.

Too tired for anything, it was silently agreed between them that introductions could wait. Taylor stepped forward to cross the room and check on her unconscious friend. Without the blood, Gabriella would have appeared to be sleeping. However, the fact that she had not yet awoken, even in all the action, intensely troubled and concerned Taylor. Head wounds could be serious and she had no means to treat it. Their first-aid kit was back at home. At home. Which must have been miles away from here.

And where the hell was _here, _anyway?

The guy on the floor looked up to the sound of Taylor approaching. The second his blue eyes met her face, it was as if something snapped within his mind. He got to his feet at such a desperately impulsive speed that Taylor felt the need to take a step back to defend herself. He pored over her with his fervent and burning gaze, then blinked and turned his attention to Gabriella.

"It can't be." He told himself in a hushed voice.

His gloved hand reached out and gently traced Gabriella's cheek. Taylor felt bile rise in her throat along with doubt and fear. Behind her, the guy in black was standing intimately close, breathing down her neck. Only now did she realise that she was locked in this room. With two strange men. And no chance of rescue. She was trapped.

She stepped forward again, ready to assert herself and order this man to get his grimy hands off her best friend. "Don't touch her." Her hand fell to her waistband where she kept a small kitchen knife for protection.

He looked up at her again. Behind the bandana, something in the sincerity of this guys glistening, blue eyes momentarily reassured her. Something in the familiarity. In compliance, his fingers quickly retracted from Gabriella's skin. His hand continued to travel upward until it reached his masked face. With no effort at all, he removed the navy blue bandana to reveal the bright smile beneath.

Taylor could not believe her eyes. Her first and only thought was that this was a hallucination. A dream, maybe. Perhaps, back in the supermarket, she had suffered a blow to the head and now her mind was playing tricks on her due to concussion. Or her fatigue mixed with lack of hope had conjured up this imaginary image of what she wanted most. Because there was no way this was real. No way. It was unlikely enough that she had found other survivors. Even more unlikely that she _knew _them. And unlikelier still that they were—

She turned around. If this was real- if that was… Troy- then surely, the man in black must have been Chad. Chad; whose death she'd grieved a long time ago.

* * *

**_xX M Xx_**


	5. The Morning After

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**4. The Morning After

* * *

**

This was no ordinary headache. No, I'd never felt anything like this before. It was pure agony. Like a million volts of electricity were surging through my brain, frying each cell and bursting each sensitive nerve. Non-stop. Like there was some kind of fiery inferno inside my skull destroying anything and everything it came into contact with. _That's _how my head felt. _This _was no ordinary headache.

And, as if it wasn't bad enough, I was dizzy and nauseous. My mouth was dry and my body and mind were exhausted. Every breath I inhaled felt like sandpaper in my throat. Every time I blinked a white shot of pain would burst from my eyes into my head. Every step I took would send an achy throb through my ankle, knee, hip and spine. Every second that passed was torture.

To the left of me, Taylor's rhythm of trudged footsteps faltered as she stumbled yet again. We'd been walking for so long now that we barely bothered to lift our feet off the ground, instead dragging them over the concrete of the pavement. Our shoes had been abandoned hours ago; high heels are impractical when running for your life, even if they did cost a fortune. And so, the soles of our feet were as torn as our tights and filthier than our stained and fraying prom dresses.

The prom. It was the most magical night of my life. In Troy's arms I felt so loved. I felt as though, no matter what the future had in store, as long as we were together it didn't matter. I felt safe. And then, in a second, that changed.

It had been over 14 hours since I had last seen Troy; that final glimpse of him before we were violently dragged apart by the surging crowds. Since then, Taylor and I had rested only once, briefly sleeping in Troy's draughty tree-house, in our tiring destination-less walk through deserted backstreets. It was midday and the merciless sun blazed right above us. If it wasn't for my severe dehydration, I would have been sweating buckets.

"I gotta sit down." I was shocked by the hoarseness of my own voice. My limbs felt triple their usual weight and I knew I couldn't walk much longer.

Taylor acknowledged me with a quick sideways glance but didn't even slow her pace. "Not 'til we're further from the main roads." She said bluntly. She continued to walk, scouring the empty streets ahead with her eyes; still jumpy and vigilant.

I understood her fearful paranoia. What had happened was insane. We'd almost lost our lives and had the scars to prove it. I understood. But we were _miles _from a main road. In a part of Albuquerque I had never seen before. An area of countryside and forest that I hadn't even known existed. It was private land where the houses weren't within miles of each other and vast properties were gated and enclosed.

"Come on," I begged. In my desperation, I could feel a lump growing in my throat. My eyes were dry but I felt like crying. "I haven't seen anyone for hours."

And it was true. At first, the streets had been swarming with people running around like headless chickens. We were among them also sprinting in no particular direction. But as night had turned into day and we got further from civilisation the number of people diminished until there was no-one around but us. But for our occasional bouts of forced conversation, the world was silent.

A soft breeze blessed us with a moment of cool before humidity reclaimed our senses. Taylor shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her fingers despondently stroked the claw-mark gashes on her upper arm which sparkled with spots of fresh, wet blood. "We're not safe." She muttered.

"Why?" I asked, much louder than intended and with undeniable irritation. "We're so far from where it was all happening." I turned my head to look back at the road we'd been travelling on. "And we have no idea where we are. How are we supposed to get back when-?"

"We aren't going back." She interrupted. Her voice never left its harsh monotone. "We can't."

I stopped in my tracks. "What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

Taylor continued to walk ahead but turned around to face me. "Come on." She ordered. She was so stern and frank that I wondered if she'd somehow managed to lose her emotions in all the mess of the night. She seemed unafraid and unsympathetic. Like a robot, she just carried on without flinching. And there I stood; hurt, terrified and confused and with no more motivation to go on.

"No." I answered finally. I saw Taylor tense. She pursed her lips and slowed to a stop.

So I was wrong before. She hadn't lost her emotions. She was exhibiting quite a few now; frustrated, angry and really not in the mood for my objection.

Clenching and unclenching her small fists, she took a deep breath before turning to me fully and taking the few steps back to where I stood. "Listen to me," she said through gritted teeth once she was a couple of feet in front of me. "The city is infected, okay?" I'd never seen her like this. This girl was not my chirpy best-friend. She'd become someone I didn't like at all. "We go back and we'll end up infected too."

I'd barely been listening as I considered why Taylor would be so brash. When her words finally sank in, I found myself facing even more confusion. "What infection?"

Taylor's grim expression softened and she sighed quietly. "They were testing some new drug." She explained. "I don't know what. Something controversial." She shrugged and I detected a resentment in her voice. "But I guess it must have mutated and got loose."

Her words were going right over my head, simply due to my fatigue. Before I could allow any more of it to sink in, I had to rest. I nodded so she'd know I was still listening and then sank to the ground and sat right there in the middle of the road. "How do you know all this?" I asked, not bothering to look up at her, focusing on the ladders that streamed up her tights instead.

"My mom was telling me about it." She answered. She hesitated before sitting cross-legged beside me. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was still looking frequently to her left and right to see if anyone was around. "She knew a guy that worked at the place they were doing it. Somewhere in California I think."

She seemed to be talking to herself more than she was me. I realised then just why she was so distant. Where I was the type of person who couldn't quite keep their emotions hidden, Taylor McKessie was the complete opposite. Without her telling me, I would never know what was on her mind, even as her best friend. It had only just occurred to me that she was probably hurting just as much as I was. She'd just managed to hide it behind this hard façade.

"But there's a cure, right?" I asked simply to take her mind elsewhere. To hope.

When she didn't answer, I turned to face her only to find that she was no longer looking around vigilantly, but gazing down at her hands. Her eyes glazed with insufferable guilt.

The skin on her palms was tinted pink with the blood she hadn't had a chance to wash off. Her fingertips were red and raw from where she had been rubbing them in vain to get them clean. She turned her hands so they were palm-down and began to pick frantically at the darkened, dry blood under her nails. She was gasping at the desperation with which she was trying to rid her skin of the blood of another.

I could tell she'd been swallowed by the thoughts that I had tried so hard to ignore. "We did what we had to do." I slipped my hand into hers and drew her attention from the awful memories of the night before.

I wasn't sure if she had listened but she definitely heard. She nodded and glanced back up the road in the direction we had been walking. "What are we gonna do, Gabi?" She sniffed softly. "It's not just Albuquerque. There's nowhere for us to go…" She swiped fiercely at the single tear that slowly traced down her cheek.

What was I supposed to say? She'd been the one with the answers. I had no clue. "We'll find somewhere to stay." I decided. The next house we came to would become our new home. "At least, temporarily."

I could feel her shaking at my side and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She seemed so fragile now and I found myself wishing the angry Taylor back. At least then, she was the strong, fierce girl I knew, even if she _was _being a bit rude.

"Then what?" She rested her head against my cheek.

"Then…" I thought to myself. The future for us seemed bleak. And we both knew it. "We wait." I added finally. The idea sucked but there was really nothing much else that we could do. Survive or die. Those were our only options. "This won't go on for long." I assured us both. Though, this didn't seem like the type of thing that would blow over any time soon.

"You're right." She agreed, straightening her back and looking ahead. There were traces of doubt in her pensive frown but a glimmer of hope behind her eyes.

"And," I continued. "You know, in a few days, things'll be back to normal."

* * *

**A/N: **Hey guys, sorry for the lack of regular updates. It's not that I'm not writing it, it's just that my internet is so messed up. I've managed to fix it momentarily (but by the time I press 'upload' it will probably die just to spite me!) Anyway, thanks for the reviews and for adding me to alerts and stuff! I know I say this every time but PLEASE review. Even if it's just one short one for the entire story. You don't have to comment on every chapter it's just that getting reviews spurs me on and I need motivation! I'll stop begging now. And I really am appreciative of those who already review!

Just for you guys, my fab readers, I thought I'd do a double update for ya'll! So, two chapters will be up today! Yay!


	6. The Reunion

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**5. The Reunion

* * *

**

There was that headache again. Just like the one she'd had when dehydrated the day after the prom, an overpowering pain that surrounded her mind. Only this time, it didn't stem from behind her eyes, but from her right temple. It was a sharp pain, almost like a blade was slicing in and out of the side of her brain but, although agonising, it was nothing she hadn't experienced before. After eight months, you tend get used to the feeling of hurt.

Her eyes were shut and she kept them that way, submersing herself in the comfort darkness and allowing her mind a blank canvas of black to think on. She'd been unconscious, she knew that much. The reason why was still a mystery. She didn't remember what she'd been doing before the darkness, before the pain. She remembered waking up earlier that morning and visualised the breakfast she had shared with Taylor. Stale _Cornflakes_ that they'd found in the pantry. They never got food from the pantry. But they were running low on supplies…

The puzzle pieces came tumbling together. Snippets of her memory that had gone missing in the haze of unconsciousness were flooding back in an unexpected rush. The shop. The Unspeakable. The ambush. She'd tried to fend them off but there were so many. Her baseball bat was no match for their lightening-quick hands and she hadn't even blinked before one had lashed at her, catching her head with one of his razor sharp claws. That's when it all went black.

She should have been dead. Maybe she was. As much hope she put into her best friend, she doubted that she would have been able to take on all six of the Unspeakables alone. Taylor was a strong girl but—

Taylor.

Where was she? Had she survived? What had happened to her?

In a sudden flurry of urgency, Gabriella opened her eyes and sat upright. She'd been vertical for no more than a second before a wave of dizziness almost knocked her right back down. Her eyes rolled around in their sockets like something out of a cartoon and she had to shut them again to regain her balance. Still swaying, a supportive hand was placed on each of her shoulders and held her upright. She relaxed into the warm grip and allowed herself a second to breathe before opening her eyes.

What she saw was not what she'd expected. She'd expected to be greeted be Taylor's concerned frown. But instead of her best-friend's warm, brown eyes, she was met with mesmerising blue. A uniquely clear and heavenly blue. A shade of blue she never thought she'd see again.

"Am I dead?" She groaned. Her migraine and every fibre of logic in her being screamed _yes. _But his touch, his scent and those crystal blue eyes told her otherwise. Not even a dream, and she'd had many dreams of him, could be this real. So either he was actually there in front of her or she'd died and gone to heaven. Both seemed plausible.

A smile broke across his face, dazzling her with white. He treated her to an amused and heartfelt chuckle before shaking his head, a grin still stretching from ear to ear. She examined him with her eyes, blinking every so often to make sure her vision was as clear as it should have been. He looked a bit different to how she remembered him. But it _was _him. It was Troy.

And he was getting nearer. His face got so close to hers that he became nothing but a blur. The warmth of his breath tickled her chin for a second before the soft skin of his lips grazed her own. He leaned closer still until their mouths were pressed comfortably together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, fitted into one.

It was like torture for him to pull away, this being the only thing he'd wanted for the most part of a year, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. She _had_ just woken up. He separated his lips from hers, savouring the last of her scent.

"Hey." He smiled.

Eight months they'd been apart. Eight unbearable months. And _that _had been his greeting. A sheepish and almost childlike 'hey'. He was feeling wary. Because things could be different. People changed and she may have moved on. But despite the doubt and underlying fear, he'd never been happier. And that one-word greeting, to him, was all that needed to be said.

Gabriella must have agreed because a manically wide grin burst across her face and she threw her arms around him and held him as close as she could. They absorbed each other. They absorbed all the time they hadn't spent together. This was a hug worth eight months. A hug worth all the hugs they hadn't had over that dreadful space of time. He relished in the feeling of her hair on his cheek; the way stray strands would tickle his nostrils when he inhaled. She took comfort in the way their chests would briefly press together when they breathed to the same rhythm.

"I thought you were dead." She whispered. And, at that thought, something within her shivered. He felt her body tense as she cast her mind back to the grief she had endured.

Once again, he forced himself to pull back and ended their embrace. He stared deep into her eyes, searching them for trust. When she met his gaze, he knew he had her undivided attention. "I'll never leave you." He said. His eyes didn't leave hers. He let the promise sink in.

She nodded and then, for the first time since waking up, had a look at her surroundings. It was pretty dark, probably night outside, but with the aid of a small, battery-powered lamp, she could see that she was in a relatively large room. Other than the couch she was sitting on, there was nothing much else but a low coffee table.

"This is where I live." Troy explained, sensing her understandable curiosity. If he'd known he was going to have such an important guest, he would have tidied up. Thankfully, Gabriella didn't seem too bothered by the pile of dirty laundry in the corner or the crumby plates that littered every surface.

She frowned as she caught sight of her bag and baseball bat by the door and another question came to mind. This time, she had to voice it, so she turned back to Troy and spoke. "How did I get here?"

Troy sighed and leaned back on the sofa, trying to figure out a way to cut the story short. "I went out shopping, heard some noises and found you." He explained. She nodded and appeared to be deep in thought. "Didn't realise it was _you _until I'd carried you here."

The panic returned to Gabriella's face as she turned away from Troy again to peer frantically around the room. "Where's Taylor?" She demanded. Her heart started pounding as she noticed the absence of her best-friend and expected the worst.

Troy smiled knowingly and let his gaze wander to a closed door on the edge of the room. "In there." He nodded in that direction before turning back to Gabriella and raising his eyebrows suggestively. "With Chad."

He couldn't help but laugh at the eyes-wide, mouth-agape, half-gasp-half-grin that Gabriella stared disbelievingly back at him with. Noticing how she must have been gawping like a fish out of water, Gabriella regained some fraction of dignity and shut her mouth.

"You two've been living together?" It was more a shocked and pleased statement than a question. When he nodded, she laughed breathlessly. "God, what are the chances? Anyone else?"

Troy shook his head. "Just us." He took her hand and she leaned back on the sofa so her head rested on his shoulder. They both stared blankly ahead, simply thinking blissfully.

Something in the mood, some part of this dream-like situation, told them both that the future was going to be good. For the first time in a long time, there was no fear. They were comfortable, confident. And unfathomably overjoyed. This was what perfection felt like. This was hope.

After a few minutes, Troy broke the pleasant silence. "Hungry?" He asked. Gabriella's empty stomach grumbled in reply.

* * *

"This bed is _way _too small for two people." Taylor groaned as she scrutinised the view above her.

The ceiling would have been cream coloured had it not been for the various dark brown leak stains that covered it almost completely. To accompany the overall filth, the plaster was cracked and riddled with unstable-looking holes that revealed the wooden boards underneath. There were cobwebs in every corner that dangled down into the walls. A solitary light bulb with no lampshade hung a few inches from the centre. Altogether, the ceiling was clearly neglected and like something out of a derelict old shack.

It had their full attention.

Chad and Taylor lay beside each other on the thin, springy mattress of the single bed, both of them on their backs staring upwards. They weren't talking. Nor touching. Just lying there in an uneasy silence in the dim, uncomfortable room.

"So…" Chad cleared his throat and rolled onto his side as best he could in the small space. "What do you feel like doing?" He knew what _he _wanted. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to feel her in his arms and have her lips on his. The more he looked at her, the more he craved her warmth. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and he wasn't even sure that could be possible. Maybe it was just his imagination, but one thing he was sure of was that absence had certainly made his heart grow fonder.

Taylor followed his lead and turned to face him. The second she met his gaze, she couldn't help but smile. He'd grown a lot but still seemed like the same old comfort-hungry boy. He probably didn't realise that he was licking his lips with passion evident in his eyes. Yep, same old Chad. And she knew _exactly _what he wanted.

She leaned forward to close the small gap between them. The second their lips made contact, it was as if a spark went off in the room. All the feelings that had been suppressed; the longing for intimacy and the desire to be touched, it all came rushing out, flooding the dank room with colour and light and love. The ceiling above them became a swirling, euphoric blue sky, beyond which, the unknown future shone through with optimism. The bed they lay on was no longer the rickety, rusted mess of wood and springs, rather a cradle of velvet and silk, softness and perfection. Amongst it, they were as one. Entangled. Together again, at last.

And once she had a taste of him, Taylor couldn't stop. She wanted more. She leaned into him with even more enthusiasm, eventually rolling him onto his back. His tongue parted her lips and began to explore her mouth as she leaned over him, now on her hands and knees. With growing hunger for him, she crawled right on top of him, never once breaking their kiss. He reached up and clutched her back with both of his searching hands. His grip turned its attention further south and his fingertips began to near the waistband of her shorts. Her hands were on either side of his face. Occasionally a finger would slip into his tied-back hair or toy with the stubble on his chin. They were breathing heavily; never bothering to break for air, too ravenous for each other. Too caught-up to notice they had company.

Troy and Gabriella had always had a way of interrupting at the worst possible moment. They stood in the doorway, watching their friends, unsure of whether to disturb the two or just turn around and try hard to erase these images from their memories.

Had it not been for the smell of soup in the air, who knows how much longer Troy and Gabriella would have stood there? Chad smelt it first. He opened his eyes and looked as far as he could to the door without moving his head. He only had to see the light from outside flooding in to know that they weren't alone. With shock and embarrassment he groaned against Taylor's lips and turned his head away from her. Still oblivious, she proceeded to place gentle kisses on his jaw and cheek. It wasn't until Chad removed his hands from her waist that she pulled back with disapproval. And only then did she realise that something else had caught his attention.

With curiosity and a hint of irritation, she followed his line of sight to the door. Gabriella and Troy stared back at her, clearly torn between disturbed and amused. Gabriella took one look at the mortified surprise on Taylor's face and burst into a fit of giggles. Troy had one eyebrow raised as he playfully shook his head at Chad.

"Just came to tell you," Troy said, his voice sounding strange and stifled behind his attempts not to laugh. "I made us all some dinner."

The room remained in silence as Chad and Taylor both struggled to get their breath back and regain their composure.

"So," Troy continued, turning his attention specifically to Taylor. "If you wanna…" He paused. His eyes lit up as he found he word he'd been searching for. "Dismount." Taylor gasped as she realised she was still sitting on top of Chad. Lying beneath her, he covered his face with his hands in shame. "We'll be at the table."

Gabriella began to laugh hysterically. Troy wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her back to the eating area but not before sending a final glance to his best friend. A glance that said something along the lines of; 'Unbelievable…'

Chad bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck as Taylor attempted to climb off of him. Any ounce of dignity she had been wishing to preserve was instantly quashed as, in her haste to separate herself from him, she managed to get her foot caught in the blanket. Before she knew it, her struggle against the tangled material ended as she was sent tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. She landed on her rear with an ungraceful thud.

"You alright?" Chad called, still unmoved from where he lay.

She could hear the laughter in his voice and could just imagine the smug little smile on his childish face. "What's funny?" Getting onto her feet and peering down at him with her hands on her hips, she challenged him to say something 'witty'. She pursed her lips with her most fearsome don't-even-try-it glare.

"I guess you were right." He surprised her with. He managed to keep his face completely straight and look her right in the eye with an unfaltering seriousness. "This bed _is _too small for two people."

And, with that, his sober attitude fell apart, and he crumbled into uncontrollable laughter. Despite herself, Taylor could not maintain her disapproving pout and she joined him with amused giggles. Even next door, unaware of what had happened, Troy and Gabriella shared a contented smile upon hearing their friends' delight.

All at once, the demons disappeared. All that had happened to them meant nothing. Together again, their outlook on the future had changed. Hope had found its way back into their hearts.

Things would never be the same. But with the joy, would soon come pain.

* * *

**A/N: **Ended with a rhyming couplet there, that was unintentional. Hope you enjoyed the latest installment!

_**xX M Xx**__**  
**_


	7. The Visitor

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**6. The Visitor

* * *

**

The soup was cold by the time Gabriella had taken her final sip. Last to finish, she dropped her spoon into the cheap, china bowl and wiped her hands on her lap. "It took us hours to get to that supermarket, didn't it Tay?" She continued the conversation they'd been having on-and-off for the past few minutes. Opposite her, on the other side of the table, Taylor simply nodded and turned her attention back to staring into her empty bowl.

There wasn't a dining area, only the long-ish coffee table, but even _that_ was too low to the ground to be surrounded by chairs. To use it for their meal, the group had had to sit on the floor; with their legs either crossed or tucked beneath them. Gabriella's slight complaint about the hard floorboards had earned her a comfier spot on Troy's lap for which she was very thankful. Chad sat across from them with Taylor beside him and, although the two were still visibly embarrassed by the earlier interruption, Gabriella could see that their hands were discretely entwined beneath the table.

"But," she went on. "It was the closest shop that we hadn't cleared out. See, we live in this really rural area." She turned slightly to Troy, unsure if he was listening from behind her back. He smiled slightly up at her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "_Amazing _house. You're gonna love it-"

Troy and Chad's heads popped up simultaneously. They both regarded each other for a second before directing the same confused look at Gabriella.

"What?" Troy asked. He knew Gabriella had been trying to slip it into the conversation but nothing was getting past him. She had suggested, ever so slyly, that they'd be moving to her 'amazing house'.

Taylor scoffed. "Don't think we're staying in this dump." She said, wrinkling her nose and glancing around with disdain. Compared to the boys' apartment, _their_ house was a palace. There was no way she was staying here.

"I like our apartment." Chad frowned, looking almost offended. Over time, this home had become a part of him. It was his temple; his sanctuary. It was what he knew. One of the few places he felt comfortable. And, all of a sudden, they wanted him to leave. "It's cosy."

Gabriella tried to seem sympathetic but her strong desire to move out as soon as possible overruled. "There's nowhere for us to sleep." She attempted to reason with him. Perhaps if she could make him realise how impractical the situation was… "Trust me, Chad." She said sincerely as he folded his arms across his chest. "You'll love it."

Troy could tell Chad was about to argue, he looked like a child that didn't want to do as he was told, but the atmosphere was too good now to spoil it with an argument.

Cutting off the tension before it could build, Troy tapped Gabriella's thigh to signal that he wanted to stand. She got to her feet and he followed, grabbing his bowl and spoon and looking at Chad. "You gonna help me clear the table?" He asked, although it was more of a request than a question.

Chad grew even more unimpressed but bit back his scowl and stood. Bundling up his own bowl and the rest of the mess on the table, he followed Troy to the kitchenette. They'd had their backs turned only a second when the girls began to chatter and giggle on the sofa, making themselves at home and not bothering to say 'thank you'. Chad rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the sink.

Unlike electricity, water still ran through the pipes, although only cold and not really fit for drinking. It trickled feebly into the plugged sink and frothed the washing-up liquid into tiny white bubbles. The bubbles turned orange as Troy dunked the cutlery into the water and stained it with soup.

Chad was scrubbing his second bowl when he realised he was being watched. His hands still moving the sponge against the china, he turned his head to the side to face his friend. Troy smiled back at him.

"What?" Chad asked, feeling slightly perturbed by the close attention. Troy shrugged and said nothing but continued to smile and stare. Chad could tell Troy had some nonsense in his head that he wanted to get out; something funny and random and pointless to say, so continued to try and urge it out of him. "Seriously, man. What?"

Troy's smile grew and he looked back at the spoon in his hand which now sparkled with freshness. "I think you know what." He suggested teasingly.

He had to relish in this forgotten feeling of school-time merriment. It was like they were back in the playground, joking as if none of this had happened. And he loved it. He could get used to it. They were their old selves. Allowed, if only for a while, to reclaim some of the childhood that was torn from them so suddenly. Able to smile and feel comfort without wondering if there was a point in getting up tomorrow or whether there would be a tomorrow at all. And, although Chad tried to act unimpressed, it was obvious he enjoyed it too.

He rolled his eyes and tried to turn his attention to washing the third of the bowls. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see Troy's smug smile and it slowly began to grate at him until he felt the need to defend himself. "Dude," he said, putting down the tea-towel. "It's been _eight months._"

Eight months without any form of intimate physical contact. No hugs. No kisses. No peck on the cheek from mum or tight squeeze from dad. Maybe the odd uncomfortable embrace or pat on the back from Troy but… _eight months_.

"Uh-huh…" Troy purposely sounded unconvinced. He understood Chad completely and agreed. He just enjoyed slowly winding him up and seeing his friend squirm.

And squirm he did. "Oh c'mon," Chad huffed. "We were just kissing." He paused in thought then added more quietly; "So we got a bit carried away…"

It was then that Troy could hold back no longer. Unsuccessfully stifled, his laugh came out more like a spat sputter. Looking up, he was just in time to see Chad narrow his eyes before his vision was clouded with soapy water. It didn't matter that it stung a little or tasted sour in his mouth. The fresh splash to his face had an almost exhilarating effect and only heightened his happiness.

His tactic not having its desired effect, Chad hit Troy with another splash of water, this time accompanying it with a half-hearted and joked warning. "Shut up!"

* * *

Across the room, Taylor and Gabriella lounged on the couch, exhausted after such an eventful day. They had momentarily paused their conversation, silently watching their boyfriends have a childish water-fight in the kitchen, and were now turning their attention back to each other. Taylor picked up right where she'd left off.

"I'm not kidding, Gabi," she said dynamically. "I thought you were dead." She was recalling her point of view of what had happened earlier that day in the shop. For the first time since then, she was coming to terms with just how awful it would have been to have actually lost Gabriella. If they hadn't been blessed with this miracle reunion, she would have ended up either dead or alone. And, if the latter had become the case; if she had been forced to face solitude, then she would have preferred to be dead.

Gabriella bit down on her lip, almost feeling sorry for putting Taylor through such a horrible experience. Without noticing, she began to softly stroke the rough surface of the scab that was forming on her scalp. "You don't have to worry about me, Tay." She assured her friend. Although, she'd never felt so close to death. They'd narrowly escaped today, and their rescue still felt like an untrue dream, but things could have turned out a lot different. There was no denying that they had put themselves and their lives in danger.

"D'you want me to have a look at that?" Taylor offered, pointing at Gabriella's head. It wasn't really a question, more of a demand, and Gabriella reluctantly complied.

Taylor had taken an interest in medicine. She'd always been a sciencey girl but was even more so now, since discovering a heap of medical books in the library in their home. The previous inhabitant must have been some kind of doctor because the collection of educational manuscripts was extensive. And, on those boring days which were more often than not, Taylor would read and read them, engrossed in the diagrams and technical jargon. She beckoned Gabriella with one finger, ready to finally put some of her new-found knowledge to the test.

Gabriella lay down on the sofa and used Taylor's lap as a cushion. She cringed as she felt Taylor's warm and eager fingers picking out the flecks of dry blood from her hair. Then, winced as those same fingers began to prod her still raw and throbbing wound. Looking up, all she could see was Taylor's deep frown and, for a second, she began to wonder if there was something wrong.

"So what's the prognosis, doc?" She asked, successfully keeping the fear from her voice.

Taylor's gentle fingers continued to move and Gabriella realised that her head was no longer being dealt with, just her hair. She loved it when Taylor played with her hair. It not only made her feel closer to her best friend, but it sort of reminded her of when she was a child and her mother would do the same. It was comforting and sent shivers of nostalgia down her spine.

"Looks good to me." Taylor replied, slowly undoing Gabriella's loose plaits. Her frown dissolved into a warm smile and she briefly looked over at the boys. "So," She started cautiously. "You and Troy…?"

She had that look on her face. That fun and eager look she always got when snooping for gossip. The excited glint in her eye made Gabriella smile back. It had been a while since they'd had a conversation like this.

"You know…" Gabriella shrugged. "We're just taking it as it comes."

Taylor was not willing to accept that as an answer. She shook her head and put on her most effective 'Uh, I don't think so' face. "No, no." She said quickly. "What does that even _mean_? Where's the passion?" The final word came out in an exaggerated whisper and, with it, she clenched her fists and looked up in a dreamlike manner.

"Oh," Gabriella chuckled. "You mean like you and Chad?"

Taylor's wistful façade dropped at once and her cheeks flushed red. She looked back at Gabriella. "Let's _not _talk about that." She advised bluntly. "And anyway, you're changing the subject."

Gabriella grinned but knew that there was no avoiding the subject. If Taylor wanted details, she was getting details. And if she wanted to know everything about their relationship, Gabriella would eventually be forced to tell her. "It feels like we were never apart." She allowed a small, peaceful smile. "And it feels like…" She sighed and wondered whether or not to finish. She didn't want to jinx it by saying it aloud.

"Go on…" Taylor urged, though she knew the words on the edge of Gabriella's tongue. She felt exactly the same.

"Feels like we'll never be separated again."

Moments later, the girls were joined by Troy and Chad. They all squeezed onto the one sofa and talked and laughed and caught up. It was comfortable; not the couch, but the situation. It was almost _normal_. A word they never thought they could use to describe things again. After a short, playful argument about sleeping arrangements, Gabriella and Taylor were designated to the single bed, Troy to the floor by the door with a mattress of sofa cushions, and Chad to the cushion-less sofa. They didn't want to sleep, it would have been great to just stay up and talk all night, but they needed rest as it had been a long day. And once they had settled, it only took them a matter of minutes to fall into for-once a peaceful slumber.

* * *

It must have been about five-thirty in the morning. Troy awoke first, to the sound of metallic clunks by his head. The door was shaking and it only took him a second to realise that someone was knocking from outside.

From _outside_.

His first action, a complete reflex, was to clamber as quickly as he could from the door. He crawled backwards, sliding across the floor on his backside, using his feet and hands to power the movement. He didn't stop until his back hit the coffee table and caused its wooden legs to scrape noisily across the floor. It made an awful, dire moaning sound like nails on a chalkboard.

This, along with the loudening banging at the door, was enough to awaken Chad whose eyes snapped open almost as suddenly as Troy's had. He sat up from his awkward and uncomfortable-looking position on the couch and his gaze shot from the door to Troy and then back at the door.

"What the hell is that?" He asked. His voice was deep and quiet.

Troy's explanation was going to be that the girls had gone outside for some reason and gotten themselves locked out. It seemed believable and reassuring enough until a creak alerted them to the opening of the bedroom door. Looking over, both Taylor and Gabriella stood, slightly dishevelled and equally as curious.

"What are you doing?" Gabriella rubbed her eyes and looked at the odd positioning boys, Troy still on the floor and Chad sitting bolt upright on the couch. "What's all that noise?"

In answer, there was another burst of pounding at the door.

Taylor stopped mid-yawn and jumped. "Who's that?" She whispered, squinting against the early morning rays of light that peered through the gaps in the boarded windows.

Troy felt vulnerable all of a sudden and quickly got to his feet. His eyes didn't leave the door for a second as if, if he looked away, it would suddenly slide open. He didn't know what was on the other side of that inch of steel but a feeling hung over him of intense dread and he took each breath with apprehension. He also didn't know what he was supposed to do. Because, surely, he had to _do_ something. One thing he was certain of though, was that there was someone out there. And they had a choice to make.

* * *

**A/N: **I wrote probably one of my longest Author's Notes that you could imagine that had praise and thanks for everyone who had reviewed so far. I named you all individually and had a personal message for each. No lie. But, as you probably know, my internet is a bitch and when I pressed save _zip _it was all gone!

Another part of my note was to say that I begin my GCSE exams tomorrow *gulp* so updates may not be as often but I'm pretty sure the routine won't be disturbed too much. In fact, I'll be off school anyway for 'study leave' and I could always work on the story then (between revision of course :P ).

Para todos los que han comentado, muchas gracias! Te quiero y--.... Wish me luck for my Spanish exam for tomorrow! AH!

_**xX M Xx**_


	8. The Decision

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**7. The Decision

* * *

**

The sharpest knife glinted as Chad opened the drawer and almost seemed to be begging him to take it. Chad complied with the unspoken request of the inanimate object and wrapped his hand around the rough plastic handle. It was your average kitchen knife, except for the fact that it had been used to kill at least six people, one of them being only yesterday. And something in the way it fit so perfectly into Chad's hand made him think he'd be using it again, very soon.

"This is a stupid idea." He announced, pointing his knife across the room at each of his three friends. He bent down to scour a lower cupboard and disappeared from their view behind the kitchen surface. "D'you know why?" He continued his rant to the sound of his own clattered rummaging. "'Cos it's really _obviously _a stupid idea." He reappeared, standing up again with a can of bug spray in his not-knife-wielding hand

Troy ignored his friend and slowly turned the first of four locks that bolted the door. His fingertips tingled with excitement although beneath it all he could still feel fear. He also noted the subtle role-reversal that had taken place between him and Chad since the girls' arrival. Chad was no longer so keen about adventure, probably valuing his life more now that he had Taylor back. And Troy was no longer burdened with the role of leader, having Gabriella and Taylor around to help with decisions.

"Dude," Chad made his way from within the kitchenette to the coffee table where Taylor and Gabriella stood at a wary distance from the door. "Tell me you're not actually gonna open it."

Troy unlatched the second lock before turning around to face Chad. "Gabriella's right." He said simply. They'd argued about this for some time. Each of them contributed valid points for and against the opening of the door. But Chad's argument was overruled in a vote. Three against one. So the decision was made. And all the while, the knocking had never ceased. "What if someone out there is in danger? It sounds pretty desperate."

The clunking bangs persisted, reclaiming Troy's attention. He turned back around to get the penultimate lock.

"And it could be the army." Gabriella suggested. This had been a dream of hers for a long time. She'd always wondered when the president would send in a brigade to save them and anyone else they could find. "They might be searching houses for survivors and if we don't answer we'll miss our only chance of-."

"Yeah." Chad interrupted, having heard this claim before and no more convinced by it than the first time. "_Or _it could be a Savage, coming to kill us all. And we're just letting him in." He'd never felt such hopeless anguish. For once, he was thinking logically. For once, he had made a choice that would keep them safe. And everyone else was against him. Typical.

Taylor cleared her throat and spoke for the first time since the decision had been made. She'd been deep in thought, considering it and realised a key point to the disagreement. "Unspeakables don't knock."

"Uspeaka-what?"

Gabriella caught on to Taylor's point. "The 'zombie-dudes'." She explained. "They don't knock. They're not smart enough." She could see that, this time, one of her lines of reasoning was being absorbed by Chad. "And how would they have found us?"

The pensiveness on Chad's face disappeared as he reminded himself of the absurdity of the situation. "They probably followed us from the store." He dismissed that argument. "And they _do _knock. Prom night, remember?"

"There's no-one there." Troy said quietly.

Taylor, Gabriella and Chad all looked simultaneously at the open entrance. While squabbling, they hadn't noticed that, not only had the banging stopped, but Troy had unlocked the final latch and slid open the door. The stairway outside was empty. Or at least, as far as they could see.

Troy was just turning back to them, shrugging with perplexed curiosity, when a _whoosh-_sound filled the room. With the daunting noise came a terrifying cry that shook the ground beneath their feet. And, with that, they knew what was coming. Troy didn't have a chance to defend himself. He was knocked to the ground almost instantly, a fierce, heavy, writhing body on top of him. Eyes, teeth and claws flashed repeatedly in his vision. He yelped and tried to struggle free but was pinned to the floor. Clawed hands thrashed all around him and it took all his effort and attention to avoid them.

Chad would have loved to have taken the time to say 'I told you so' but knew that he had to act fast in order to save his friends life. Already armed, he ran forward, his knife raised high in the air. He'd made it only halfway across the room when another Savage entered. Followed by another. And another. It was then, for the first time, that panic registered. Overwhelmed, he raised the can of bug spray and pressed as hard as he could on the small plastic button. It hissed in his hands for a moment, releasing a white mist of deterrence, then coughed into a spluttered whisper. As the final remnants of it contents spilled out into nothing, Chad dismally realised that Plan A was down the drain. With frustration, he threw down the empty can, picked one of the three momentarily-discouraged Savages and ran at him blade-first.

The other two Savages recovered from the brief setback that the insect repellent caused and spotted potential victims. Smelling the uninfected flesh of a frozen Gabriella and Taylor made their sightless eyes light up. Eager for a meal, they sprang towards the scent of their prey. It was this sudden act of starvation that finally broke the girls from their surprised daze. Though, rather than flee, they charged forward, yelling simultaneously in a girly but threatening battle cry. Their attack had no specific strategy, seemingly just a compilation of strongly thrown punches and narrow dodges. But it was powered with determination and adrenalin-fuelled strength. They took one of the Savages each, silently deciding between what once must have been a frail woman and a young man.

Taylor took the latter and used his long, untamed hair to her advantage by grabbing as much as she could fit into her fist and yanking his head downwards until he was forced head-first to the ground. With a protesting shriek, he snatched at her ankles as she tried to stamp away his hands. She hopped on the spot like the floor was hot coal and realised that her foe did not have the intelligence to just get back up onto his feet. She hoped he would stay oblivious to the fact that being in a standing position would give him the advantage. As she continued to hop from foot to foot, occasionally stamping a finger and making the creature emit a pained scream, it dawned on her that she was not in such a great position as she had presumed. She had no weapons, no way of attack. Her only hope was to keep stamping and she was already feeling the strain in her thighs. She'd be tired soon. And then what?

Gabriella had killed before. It never got easier. She would usually use her baseball bat, just to knock them out, their death not particularly being a necessity. But she wasn't armed now. Which meant using her hands. She _hated _using her hands. The frenzied woman clawed the air with her razor-sharp fingers. Gabriella backed away just in time to only have a breeze cool her cheek where the claws would have made impact and torn through the flesh of her face. She knew she had to overcome her apprehension to kill or her own life would be lost. With a final preparatory breath, she reached out and put a hand on each side of the grey-skinned woman's head. She was a petite Savage so her neck was easily broken. It only took a fraction of Gabriella's strength to twist the head to an unnatural angle and snap the bone completely. Dead, the woman fell limp to the floor.

Still on the floor, Troy let out a hurt shout. Giving in to the fatigue from his excursion, his reflexes had slacked and the Savage on top of him had managed to pierce the skin on his neck. It was far from a deep wound, but it stung and came as a daunting reminder of just how much danger he was in of losing his life. Done with their foes, both Gabriella and Chad went to Troy's aid. Their footsteps on the wooden floor were accompanied with metallic clunks on the steps outside. More feet. More Savages. Chad sensed their approach and began to doubt that he'd be successful in the impending battle. He made a split second decision, stopped in his tracks and ran in the opposite direction of Troy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gabriella saw Chad flee. She didn't allow herself time to think upon his cowardliness before launching herself at the Savage still in Troy. His bony shoulder made impact with her chest and she seemed to bounce right off him as he remained almost unmoved. He didn't even seem to notice her. She charged at him again, wrapping her arms around his back and trying desperately to pry him from Troy. She'd never felt so weak as he was barely fazed.

There was a thud as Taylor toppled to the ground, finally having been caught by the blindly-flailing hands beneath her. Her attempts to crawl away were unsuccessful even as she used her nails to try to scrape her way across the floorboards. Hope seemed lost until she heard the jangle of keys above her. Looking up, Chad stood over her, ready to plunge his blade deep into the heart of her assailant. He did so without a moments delay before helping Taylor to her feet.

He took her by the shoulders and held his face mere inches from hers. "Take these." He said, shoving a bunch of keys into her hands. His gaze held such an urgency that she had never seen before. She was almost entranced by his panicked eyes. She could not look away. "Take Gabriella." He continued. "There's a black car out there. Get in it. Lock the doors. And if they find you, drive as far away as you can."

She nodded, almost fearful of the strong command in his voice. Running to where Gabriella still struggled to get the Savage off of Troy, she grabbed her best-friends arm and pulled her to her feet. Gabriella tried to pull away, desperate to save her boyfriend, but Taylor's grip was too strong. They had just made it to the door when another five Savages barged in.

They couldn't hold back their screams. Chad took both girls with one swoop of his arm around their shoulders and pushed them towards the bedroom. "Through the window." He directed. "In the bathroom. Go!" He gave them one final shove into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

The bedroom's stark silence was such a sudden contrast to the commotion outside. No longer a grubby pit, it became their utopia, their escape. Taylor started towards the bathroom only to stop after her first step upon hearing Gabriella attempting to reopen the bedroom door and get back to Troy. She turned back to her friend and grabbed the wrist that gripped the doorknob.

"Stop it, Gabi!" She ordered, pulling Gabriella with her to the bathroom. "We have to get out of here!"

Gabriella tried to shake free. "But Troy!" She argued. She'd only just got him back, there was no way she was losing him again.

"Chad's got him. They're meeting us outside." Taylor assured her.

Gabriella seemed unconvinced but reluctantly allowed Taylor to pull her through the open bathroom door. The off-white room was tiny with space only for a dirty shower cubicle, a sink and a toilet. Above the toilet was a small window and outside of it, they presumed would be a fire escape ladder.

Gabriella climbed onto the seat of the toilet and attempted to open the window, already doubting that she'd be able to fit through it. It didn't budge and a closer inspection of the hinges alerted her to the fact that they'd been painted shut. They were going to have to smash it.

Taylor was one step ahead of her and handed her a plunger. Gabriella took it a used the wooden handle to shatter the glass. She tried to remove all traces of glass to prevent them from scratching themselves on their exit.

A banging came at the bedroom door followed by ravenous growls and deafening scratches. This added a new urgency to the operation and Gabriella began instantly to climb through the window.

"Be careful." Taylor called after her.

Her head and shoulders were out. The view below, she found, was extremely daunting. They were two floors up from the concrete ground. The escape ladder looked worn and neglected. Getting onto it from the window was going to be a tricky manoeuvre.

She had half her body out now, struggling with her hips. Her sweaty palms gripped the first step of the ladder as best she could and she used the metal bar to pull herself further into the open. It was then that she realised that, at some point during her climb, she would rely completely on upper-body strength as she was going to have to dangle momentarily from only her arms. She paused to prepare herself for such a feat, not allowing herself to look down at the far away ground below. She'd hardly taken in one breath of air when Taylor began to shout from behind her.

The Savage was breaking through the bedroom door. His hands had broken through the wood. He was close to shredding the door completely.

Gabriella knew that, as long as she didn't fall, she was safe. Her fear now was that her dawdling would cost Taylor's life. She didn't stop to think before swinging her legs out of the window. Her shoulders screamed as she dangled solely from her arms and her feet struggled to locate a bar to stand on. Groaning and grunting and sweating buckets, she finally found her footing and quickly started her downward journey to the street.

Taylor meanwhile had clambered up to the window at unbelievable speed. Looking up from where she stood safely on the hard ground, Gabriella could see her friend's head poking out. Taylor looked to be doing well until she emitted a terrified scream. Her legs were almost out the window. But the Savage had broken in to the room. And she hadn't shut the bathroom door.

The Savage bolted at her. Taylor didn't know whether to focus on defending herself or climbing out of the window. Her hands loosely gripped the first bar of the ladder. Her knees were balancing precariously on the window ledge. Her leg was captured in a cold hand. The claws dug deep into the flesh of her calf. Gasping against the pain, she followed her reflexes and began to shake her leg in an attempt to free it from the painful ensnarement. The wood of the window ledge was rotten and weak. Her vigorous movements caused it to crack beneath her knees. The support she knelt on crumbled and she was sent tumbling out of the window, violently tearing her leg free of the callous hand.

Her fall was nothing like out of the films. She didn't have time to scream or thrash around. Her body didn't rotate in slow motion and she didn't shield her eyes from the approaching ground. She was completely tense. She spent less than a second plummeting through the air. Then a moment of agony shot through her entire body before everything disappeared.

**

* * *

A/N: **It's so hard to do action sequences with four people involved! Sorry if I couldn't do it all justice, or if I didn't pay enough attention to certain people. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reviewing and sorry I haven't bothered to name those fabulous people that leave comments but I can never spend long enough online. As far as all the exam nonsense, after tomorrow I don't have any until June so… updates galore I hope.

And finally, (my **A/N'**s are so long, I wonder if anyone actually reads them) since I got rid of the trailer, I'm thinking of doing a little preview for each chapter. For example;

**Coming up, in Chapter 8;**

_There isn't a word in any dictionary that could describe the feeling that washed over them at that moment. Such fear is unfathomable. It built up within them like a ticking time-bomb, slowly rendering all of their senses. Neither of them could think of anything but how close they were to slow and painful deaths. Their vulnerability was unbearable. Their hearts beat hard and fast in their throbbing chests. Their blood rushed through their veins. They couldn't stop themselves from shaking._

Stay tuned!

Oh, and don't forget to tell me what you think of the new preview system. Should I keep it up? Or not bother? If you don't tell me, I'll never know!

_**

* * *

xX M Xx**_


	9. The Subway

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**8. The Subway

* * *

**

"I spy," Chad began, glancing around the small room. "With my little eye, something beginning with… T." He finished with a proud smile, certain that this one would be impossible, or at least remotely challenging.

Troy sighed and shifted uncomfortably where he sat leant up against the cold wall. "Tiles?" He guessed unenthusiastically, not bothering to open his eyes to scan the room for objects he'd already become so familiar with.

"Nope." Chad's I-know-something-you-don't-know smile grew and he felt a childish glee at Troy's incorrectness.

"Toilet?"

Chad's I-know-something-you-don't-know smile dropped. "H-how did you-…?" He stammered, both disappointed and completely perplexed by Troy's effortless triumph.

Finally bothering to open his eyes, Troy answered the question before it had been asked. "Firstly," he said, bearing about as much gusto as a dead jellyfish. "You did that one about five minutes ago. And secondly, there's not much else to choose from in this room, is there?" He grimaced, not even sure if he could refer to the place as a 'room'.

This was their home. Their cramped, grimy, reeking home. They didn't know how long they'd been staying there. Being underground, they'd sort of lost track of time. But it must have been at least two weeks since the prom. And it had taken them a few days to locate a safe place to stay. Since then, they hadn't left the subway station. And they rarely left the restroom; being out on the platforms left them unnervingly exposed and, although they hadn't had visitors yet, nothing was to say that they wouldn't come eventually. It was for that reason that they only left the tiny, yellow-white room to raid the stations vending machines; their only source of food, which had run out of snacks three days ago.

Three days they had gone without eating. The only thing keeping them energised was the stagnant tap-water and even that was barely effective. They were weaker than they had ever been. Thin and frail and exhausted and hopeless. Death was looming over them. Slowly creeping up. The saddest part was that they knew it was coming but were helpless to stop it.

"Uh, actually," Chad replied, looking slightly offended and a bit embarrassed at being outsmarted so quickly. "It could've been 'Taps'." He added defiantly. He knew Troy couldn't care less. He knew he was probably being irritating. But playing these tedious games was the only way he could take his mind off how close they were to demise. "Or, toilet _cubicle. _Or, Troy…"

Troy wasn't listening. He'd made that clear by shutting his eyes again and resting his head on one of the pipes. He had his arms crossed on his chest and looked to be in uncomfortable slumber.

"…Or, Tea tree oil scented air-freshener." Chad continued, unfazed by his friend's lack of interest. "Hmm!" He added with surprise. "With a free soft toy if you purchase nine bottles."

Troy raised his hands in surrender. "Okay…" He shrugged. "I get it. T is a very popular letter. Well done."

Chad knew it was sarcastic but grinned nonetheless. "Up for another round?" He offered, eyebrows raised with eager anticipation as he already began to scour the room for another target.

"No!" It was the quickest Troy had reacted to something all day. And the most passion he'd shown in about a week.

It was fair to say that the state of the world had gotten to him. He hadn't been able to block it out, so the devastation flooded his senses and left him a depressed and disconcerted mess. He often wondered what there was left to live for any more. If it wasn't for Chad's company, he'd seriously consider giving in to the increasingly agreeable idea of suicide.

Opening his eyes again, he couldn't help but notice the small trace of hurt behind Chad's forced smile. He realised his fault in taking his frustration out on his best-friend and softened his tone. "But," he sighed. "How about we give this place a quick spray of Tea tree oil air-freshener?" He suggested. It sounded like the kind of thing old people scented their dilapidated homes with but, compared to the current smell of stale urine and damp, anything would do.

Chad's smile faltered further, but this time out of awkward surprise. "Oh…" He breathed as if unprepared for such a request. It was clear that he hadn't expected Troy to propose such a thing. "I, uh… I made that one up." He admitted. "There is no… tea tree oil scented air freshener." His cheeks subtly tinted pink as he blushed slightly. "Sorry."

Gratification rose through Troy from the pit of his stomach and poured as laughter out of his open mouth. He wasn't sure why he was laughing; whether it was Chad's playful and juvenile shame, or just a release of built tension, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. The aches in his muscles faded. The tiredness behind his eyes disappeared. And he and Chad revived their dying brotherly bond as they chuckled together for no apparent reason.

This was the first time since that night that they had relaxed. It felt good, comforting, and momentarily took their minds off the turmoil around them. They were no longer in a grimy public toilet, but in the changing rooms of the schools gym, just hanging out and laughing in their friendly, untroubled way.

An almost unnoticeable itch within the depths of Troy's chest escalated suddenly into an unbearable bout of pain. He began to cough breathlessly as phlegm and saliva blocked his airways. His face was turning red as he rocked himself unknowingly backwards and forwards. His eyes popped far from their sockets and threatened to leave his skull completely as they leaked a mass of tears. Between uncontrollable coughs, he struggled to suck in even the slightest desperate intake of air.

Unsure of what else to do and feeling helpless as he watched his friend suffering, Chad crawled over the small space that separated them, lay a tentative hand on Troy's back and began to pat and rub lightly. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Troy managed to regain a normal-ish rhythm of respiration. His face glistened with sweat and he looked even worse than ever before.

He was sick. They both were. Due to their living conditions. Their lack of a substantial and healthy diet. The depression. They were sick. And it was killing them. It was clear that they were on deaths door. Any amount of excursion could tip them off the edge of life that they were tottering so precariously on. They had no chance.

Chad was about to ask Troy if he was okay, when a quiet sound came from outside the room. At first, both boys had thought it nothing more than the echo of Troy's coughing fit; the vibrations of his noise bouncing off the walls of the underground tunnels. But it came again, louder. And sounded more like a voice. A child's voice.

Putting his finger to his lips, Chad slowly stalked to the door on his knees. Troy mustered all the strength he could and got to his feet. He tiptoed behind Chad and leaned over him. As Chad silently opened the door, they both peered out at the station platform. What they saw made their breath hitch.

Chad shut the door quickly and put his back to it, leaning on it to keep it shut. He looked up at Troy who still stood above him.

"Did you see that?" He whispered, hoping it had just been a figment of his twisted imagination. A mirage induced by extreme hunger.

Unfortunately, Troy nodded.

Yes, he had seen the little boy who stood alone by the platforms edge. The child must have been no older than seven. He was infected. They could tell, even though he stood with his back to them. His pale skin was telling enough. Not to mention the fact that he was shirtless and barefoot; clothed only in bloodstained, torn jeans. He stood tense, head slightly tilted to the side, babbling to himself in an unknown tongue. He was mere metres from them.

Troy reached out a hand to help Chad to his feet, already formulating a plan of escape. They were going to have to run for the entrance before the little boy sussed that they were there and alerted any others to their whereabouts. The thought of having to find a new place to stay hadn't even occurred to them. Survival was their only instinct.

After silently ascertaining that they were both as ready as they would ever be, Chad slowly and silently re-opened the door. The space where the boy had stood was empty. The entire platform was void of presence, as it had been before. In their hearts they hoped that the little boy had gotten distracted and gone elsewhere, but they both knew that that was unlikely. He had probably just wandered out of their line of sight. Either way, their exit plan still stood, their 'home' not being as zombie-free as they had presumed.

They opened the door fully and stepped out into the main area of the station. To their left was the edge of the platform and the dead tracks. To their right, light shone down from the entrance that opened right onto the street. As they walked, their eyes were in constant search of the disappearing boy but they caught no sight of him until they reached the foot of the stairs that led to their exit.

Standing within the doorway, he was silhouetted against the bright light that shone from outdoors. His head was still cocked strangely to the side and he was shivering noticeably. He wasn't alone.

Neither Troy nor Chad stopped to count the boys company. Just seeing the line of expectant, hungry and twitching infected was enough to make them bolt in the other direction without a second thought. In their carelessly hasty run, they made contact with a discarded Coke can on the concrete floor. The sound of it was picked up instantly and the Savages broke into chase.

There weren't many places of escape. And it all happened so quickly that there was no time to think about it. Troy grabbed Chad by the shirt and they sprinted together to the edge of the platform. They jumped onto the tracks, the sound of the Savages' infuriated shrieks close behind them. Threatening and impossibly dark, the mouth of the tunnel beckoned them as their only chance of survival. The second they were within its curved walls, they were engulfed in pitch black. Troy still clutched Chad's shirt as they stumbled blindly through the underground rail system. The metal tracks and surrounding gravel made an unsettling amount of noise with each hurried step they took. They were leaving audible breadcrumbs, leading the sound-dependent Savages right to them.

Behind them, chillingly close behind them, the murmur of hoarse, ragged breathing never stopped. And the frantic searching grunts and moans echoed off the walls of their entrapment, making it seem as though they were already surrounded.

It occurred to them, at the same time apparently, that they would never escape by running. They were far too weak to be able to stay ahead of their enemies much longer. Their lungs wailed out of desperation and emptiness. Their exhausted legs threatened to buckle at any moment. Their minds and bodies groaned in unison. And their loud footsteps were a constant giveaway to their location.

Troy tugged again on Chad's shirt, pulling them both off the tracks. They staggered to the nearest wall, colliding with it with more force than intended. There, they stood, struggling to stay silent as they distraughtly attempted to fill their starved lungs with air. Their bodies ached even more now that they were stationary and it took almost all their energy to just stay upright.

In no time at all, the footsteps of their followers neared and came to a halt only a few feet from where they stood. They pressed themselves as close to the wall as they could in their attempts to go undetected. They held their breath, but even the rapid beating of their panicked hearts seemed deafeningly loud enough to reveal their positions.

The crunch, crunch, crunch of the gravel underfoot, gradually got louder until it seemed to be right in their heads. Both boys were hit with an overpowering stench that assaulted their noses and tongues. They resisted the urge to gag, realising what the scent meant. Although they could not see at all, they could smell, hear and _feel _the presence of a Savage that stood right in front of them. It's hot breath gushed repeatedly over their faces. The material of it's torn clothes gently tickled Chad's skin.

There isn't a word in any dictionary that could describe the feeling that washed over them at that moment. Such fear is unfathomable. It built up within them like a ticking time-bomb, slowly rendering all of their senses. Neither of them could think of anything but how close they were to slow and painful deaths. Their vulnerability was unbearable. Their hearts beat hard and fast in their throbbing chests. Their blood rushed through their veins. They couldn't stop themselves from shaking.

The Savage began to sniff, sensing the weeks-worth of dry sweat in front of him. The scent of fear. He leaned closer to Troy and Chad. And if they had known how close they were to him now, the boys would have been thankful for their blindness. Because his face was not even an inch from Chad's. Barely a centimetre. If it wasn't for his smaller height, he would have been touching Chad's hair. But the slightest movement from either of them would have their faces touching.

A loud shriek sounded at once and Chad was hit with a gust of hot, rancid breath. He shut his eyes and tried to picture himself anywhere but here. Anywhere but here. The quietening sound of retreating crunches didn't even register in his brain. His eyes stayed clamped tightly shut and he continued to starve his shrivelled lungs of air. Even when the beasts were out of earshot, he did not attempt to move. He was suffocating in the darkness. Finding it impossible to be anywhere but here.

"I think they're gone." Troy's trembling and uncertain voice announced.

And only then did Chad let go. His body crumbled to the floor as he sucked in a painful amount of air until his lungs felt like balloons fit to burst. Hard pebbles dug into his hands and knees as he coughed and spurted uncontrollably. The world came crashing down on him and he was powerless to hold its overbearing anguish off. It tore him apart from the inside out, gushing through every pore in his body and staining his blood black with terror.

"Oh god," he sobbed between desperate gasps. "Oh god." His knees collapsed beneath him and he lay in a trembling ball on the floor. "Oh god." His hands clutched his head as he tried to block it all out. "Oh god."

Beneath the consuming despair was one solid thought that kept repeating in his mind. Death. He would have preferred death. Because having the Savage slaughter him would have been easier than _this_. Now he had to live with the memories of how close he had been to being killed. Now he had to face the nightmares. At least, in death, he would have finally found peace from this cruel, harsh world.

**

* * *

A/N:** You're probably thinking that was a bit of an extreme reaction and wondering why Troy didn't seem as traumatized as Chad. Let me explain. Troy has come to terms with the idea of dying and, although he doesn't want to, he is acceptant of the fact that it will probably happen soon. Chad is in denial. He's gotten himself in the idea that they are going to live forever and that this was just a minor setback in their lives. This is the first time that he realises that they probably aren't going to live and it's all too much for him to handle. Reality just crushed him like a tonne of bricks. Sad sad.

**Next Time…**

_Chad released his grip on Troy's arm and took a step back. He let out a sound that is only possible to make when one is at their most devastated. A quiet cry of pure despair. A long whimper of anguish. He found himself overwhelmed with distress, so much so that he couldn't stop himself from clutching his head with both hands, his fingers so tight that his nails dug into his scalp. His line of sight never left the injury that meant the end of his best friend._

_**

* * *

xX M Xx**_


	10. The Coincidence

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**9. The Coincidence

* * *

**

It was a crisp, early morning in quiet Albuquerque. The cold sky was a pale blue dotted with soft white clouds. The air was fresh and chilly. The streets, as usual were still and lifeless. There wasn't a sound except for Chad's hushed and pleading voice as he crouched over Troy at the top of the flight of black stairs.

They had managed to escape from their home, though far from unscathed, and now sought a moment of refuge atop the entrance stairs just outside their apartment door. Inside, the remaining Savages whom they hadn't had the energy or power to kill could still be heard ransacking the empty rooms for any sign of meat. Ignoring the wails of disappointment that managed to break through the steel door, Chad continued to visually inspect his friend.

There was so much blood it was hard to tell where it stemmed from, or even if it was Troy's at all. They were both covered in it. Both had contributed to it. Though thankfully, it was mainly of the Savages. Things had gotten messy. Quickly. The two of them against such a large number of dangerous enemies was a clearly unfair disadvantage. And they had little to work in their favour. It had been a miracle that they'd been able to get to the door. But the miracle was flawed. All was not well.

Troy was in a bad way. He sat on the floor, propped up against the railing bars of the banister. Although he was trying hard not to show it, he could not hide the pain in his eyes. And Chad had seen the beating he had suffered from the Savage; the creature repeatedly smashing his head into the ground out of an abnormal fury. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, even as he used one of his socks as a cloth to wipe the blood from his skin. He was rubbing against the red liquid so fiercely that it must have stung. And, no matter how much attention he paid to a certain area, a few moments later it would be as blood-stained as it had been before. Rather than wipe it off he just seemed to be rubbing it in. That didn't stop him. He needed the poison off his body.

"Dude, let's go." Chad urged, yet again. His desperate request fell on deaf ears. Begging to be noticed, he bent further down to Troy and took his friend by the elbow. "Come on, man, we gotta-."

The words he'd planned to say were forgotten.

Troy continued to scrub fiercely at his reddening skin. His insane cleaning focused now on the spot that had made Chad's heart stop beating. The feeling of his sock being dragged across his bare flesh went ignored as he scrubbed at his open wound. His open wound, which tarnished his relatively-hairless hand where his thumb and index finger met. His open bite wound.

Chad released his grip on Troy's arm and took a step back. He let out a sound that is only possible to make when one is at their most devastated. A quiet cry of pure despair. A long whimper of anguish. He found himself overwhelmed with distress, so much so that he couldn't stop himself from clutching his head with both hands, his fingers so tight that his nails dug into his scalp. His line of sight never left the injury that meant the end of his best friend.

He'd been bitten. Troy, who had always been there, invincible, had been bitten. Which meant undeniable infection. And only one possible outcome; eventual death. The bacteria was already pulsing through his veins. Changing him on the inside. Poisoning his blood. There was no way of reversing it. No way of curing him. He'd soon be just like one of _them_.

The idea of leaving his dying friend there alone was unthinkable to Chad. Although he knew the dangers of being in the company of an infected person and he knew that Troy could kill them all, he couldn't bring himself to abandon his best friend. He leant down again and grabbed Troy's unbitten hand, though just as he attempted to pull the other boy upright, a wave of nausea knocked Troy back down.

His eyes were barely open now as he groggily blinked their heavy lids. He struggled to keep control of his wilting limbs and found himself shaking terribly. Maybe the infection was already affecting him. Or maybe it was the repeated head wound he had sustained. Either way, he no longer had control over his body and was swimming unsteadily in and out of consciousness.

The screech of tyres was heard below as Gabriella pulled up at the foot of the stairs in a black car. She jumped out immediately and bounded up the stairs, not bothering to shut the door behind her. The sight that met her at the top of the steps took her breath away.

Both boys were drenched in blood. It was on their skin, in their hair and stained their clothes. Troy lay on the small area of floor, his eyes hooded and body wracked by gentle convulsions. Chad had his hands under Troy's armpits and was attempting unsuccessfully to pull him upwards.

Gabriella instantly bent down to help. "What happened?" She asked, not taking her eyes from Troy's face as she threw one of his shuddering arms over her shoulder.

Chad did the same and they were able to lift him, though Troy's occasional tremors made it difficult for them to carry him down the narrow flight of stairs. Chad didn't even consider mentioning the bite. There was too much to think about right now and he hadn't even come to terms with it yet. He answered the question with one of his own. "Where's Taylor?" He took his gaze from the step in front of him for just an instant to look Gabriella in the eye. A flash of remorse crossed the girls face and set dread in Chad's heart.

His question, like Gabriella's, went unanswered. And out of fear and apprehension, he did not ask again.

Their shoulders aching and legs worn out, they finally reached solid ground. Troy's toes dragged across the pavement as they struggled to lift him to the car. It was a difficult manoeuvre but eventually, Gabriella sat in the back with Troy's head on her lap as he lay across the entire backseat. Chad would have felt grateful or even accomplished had it not been for the dark reality that hung over their future. They'd managed to get Troy to the safety of the car, but he was still in a bad way. And even if he _did _wake up, he would probably be a changed person.

The other awful thought that could not be shaken from his mind was dampened slightly as he caught sight of Taylor sitting in the passenger seat. His relief at seeing her quickly vanished however as he climbed into the drivers seat beside her. She was hurt. Her eyes were tightly shut as she inhaled and exhaled shakily. The angle of her head; tilted back, supported only by the head rest, revealed her sore and grazed chin. A small amount of blood was dripping from her jaw down her neck. The sleeve of her leather jacket was torn, as was the skin of her wrist and palm. Where her denim shorts did not cover her leg, the side of her knee and calf were scratched and an unsightly blue bruise was forming. The bruise seemed to intensify the lower it got on her leg and by the time Chad's view had met her ankle, he could see nothing more than a purple, swollen mess.

"Tay…?" His voice was uncharacteristically childlike as he reached out to touch her hesitantly. Before his fingertips could make contact with her skin, her eyes snapped open suddenly and she turned her head to him. He pulled his hand away.

"Drive, Chad!" She ordered, banging her unscratched hand on the dashboard for emphasis.

He instantly complied. Gabriella had kept the car running when she had gone to help with Troy, so all Chad needed to do was put his foot on the gas. The car went as fast as it could as they careened through empty streets with no particular destination.

In the backseat, Gabriella cradled Troy's head in her hands, gently stroking his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and closed. "We need to get to a hospital." She declared. She didn't know what was wrong with her boyfriend, or how they would treat him, but he needed medicine. And fast. She'd never seen him so pale. So fragile. And at the back of her mind, although she tried to shut it out, her brain was telling her to prepare to lose him.

Chad nodded in agreement but had no clue which direction to go. To make matters worse, the sound of the car was attracting unwanted attention from the Savages that roamed aimlessly through the streets. Soon, a cluster of the unnaturally fast creatures was trailing behind them. And, though they were relatively safe within the locked metal doors, they would ultimately have to leave the car when-or if- they reached the hospital. There was no telling how that was going to pan out.

"I think it's that way." Taylor pointed left, immediately regretting the movement of her throbbing arm. She winced and pulled it back to her, clutching her aching wrist to her chest.

Chad turned the corner, but the road had little of his attention. "You're hurt pretty bad." He mentioned to Taylor with worry. Her agony was clear in the way her facial features were twisted into a hurt grimace. "How did-?"

"I'm okay." She shot him a weak but reassuring smile. "Really, it's just a scratch." She looked back at the road, encouraging Chad to do the same and drawing an obvious line under that discussion.

Chad followed her line of sight back to the road ahead but he'd only been focused for a few seconds when the purr of the vehicle slowly faded into nothing. The car rolled for a moment. Then it stopped.

Gabriella tore her gaze from Troy for the first time and looked around. She was surprised and confused to find that they had not reached their destination. "What are you doing?" She asked Chad who repetitively turned the key in the ignition to no avail. "Why have we stopped?" She continued.

Her questions went ignored as Chad pounded the steering wheel with his fist. "I don't believe this." He muttered under his breath. He leaned forward and rested his head on the wheel with defeat. "We're outta gas."

Taylor shut her eyes again and turned to face the window. She didn't want Chad to see the sadness on her face or how close she was to crying. Everything had gone wrong. Being reunited had been the best thing to happen to them but they hadn't even spent twenty-four hours together and it had already fallen apart. They'd lost a home, her ankle was close to broken, Troy was hurt and now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere in a broken down car that would soon be surrounded. There was no hope.

"We can't be." Gabriella refused to believe it. There was too much at stake here for the car to let them down. "Troy needs a hospital." As if for reiteration, Troy groaned from where he lay. "You have to get us out of here." She demanded.

Chad lifted his head from the steering wheel and turned in his seat to face Gabriella. "I'd love to, Gabriella," he said through gritted teeth, his irritation evident. "But unless you want me to go out and push, there really isn't much I can do." He hated feeling so useless, especially as Troy suffered right in front of him, but the sad truth was that they had no options.

Gabriella was about to answer when something slammed into the rear window behind her. They'd been found. Within seconds, the car was surrounded. Savages were at every side of them; clawing at the doors, banging on the windows, shrieking through the metal, crawling over the bonnet. They were merciless, pounding at the car with all their strength, so desperate to get to what was inside.

Inside the, they were engulfed in semi-darkness as the bodies that encircled the car blocked out the morning sunlight. Shrill screams swelled all around them and the windows misted with breath and smeared with dirty handprints.

With another groan, Troy turned slightly and buried his face in Gabriella's abdomen. He was confused. Everything hurt. And it was too noisy. All he wanted to focus on was her smell. So he sank further into her, inhaling her and revelling in her soft touch as her fingers combed softly through his hair. He allowed himself to be swallowed by her hold and let the rest of the world disappear.

Gabriella curled downwards uncomfortably and planted a quick kiss on his neck. She hovered by him for a second, with her lips an inch from his skin and whispered that she loved him before pulling back. She smiled slightly as the pained frown on his face eased.

Taylor whimpered as the window beside her began to crack. A jagged white line spread across the glass where it was starting to shatter. Several other lines branched off it. She reached out for Chad's hand, finding it almost at once. He squeezed reassuringly and, although it stung her raw skin, she felt loved and comforted.

The collective heart-rate of those in the car was well over natural speed. The hot air seemed to be thinning as it became increasingly hard to breathe. The car was shaking, being tipped from left to right. The growls and cries were intensifying into a menacing climax of success. Tiny shards of glass began to crumble into the car where the windows were giving way to the pressure on them.

_Bang! _

There was an explosion of red across the back of the car. Gabriella screamed and Taylor and Chad's grip on each others hands tightened. Even Troy jumped slightly. They hadn't a chance to think up an explanation for the deafening noise when it sounded again.

_Bang! _

_Bang! _

Two more bursts of crimson splashed over the windows, obscuring the sight of outdoors. The dark shadows of a pair of Savages disappeared under the red sheen. The bangs continued until the only view from every window was blotted out by blood. When the echoes subsided, there was silence.

"What the hell was that?" Gabriella whispered.

Her question was about to be answered. A quiet tapping alerted them to the heeled footsteps approaching. A silhouetted shadow was cast over Chad's window. They held their breath in anticipation. A small fist knocked on the glass.

As Chad slowly rolled down the window, the first thing he noticed was the guns, still smoking in the manicured hands. It was strange, but he knew at once who he was looking at. Even from his seated level, all he could see was her baggy-shirt clad torso and jeaned legs, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was her. His suspicion was only confirmed when she bent down to peer through his open window, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze.

Contrary to Taylor and Gabriella's reaction at seeing her, Sharpay didn't seem at all surprised at who she'd found. In fact, with the haughty smile on her face, she seemed to have expected them. She scanned the car interior with her eyes, quickly looking at all of them.

Then, she tossed her hair back and leaned nonchalantly on Chad's open window. "Hey guys." She greeted as if they had never been apart. "Long time no see."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **There she is! Sorry if I didn't make it clear last time (or if I'm just pointing out the obvious now) last chapter was a flashback…. I'm a little crazy with timelines :P Anywho, I think now would be a good time to share some long awaited special thanks, don't you?

So, on the legendary wall of reviewer fame are;

**PerfectxSweetheartx****, bex sharpay tisdale-evans, ****lilmissmonique****,**** HisDelilah****, ****sd freek****, ****chaylorXtraylorlover101****, ****sunnycouger****, ****ChaylorTwilightQueen10****, ****ashleytisdalerockss****, ****XxMusicalFreakxX****, Moar, benny, ****xAdorkablex48****, ****general wildcat****, ****corbinsbabygrl1****, ****ChocolatexChicaxCasey95****, ****Pandora147****, ****MUW D'Bellegirl** and** 2pinkstar and 7blackberry.**

And thanks also to anyone who's added me to their favourites or alerts. You really have no idea how lovely it makes me feel. I hope you continue to read my story and don't hesitate to drop in a quick comment with whatever you feel like saying! I just feel honoured that people read and enjoy the nonsense I write!

Love you all.

_**xX M Xx**_

(P.S.- That all sounded like a bit of a conclusion. The story isn't over, don't worry, I just realised I don't say enough how much it all means to me so…. Yeah!)

**Next Time; **_This wasn't my bedroom. Instead of being pink with a large, silver, swirly 'S' painted on it, the ceiling above me was plain white. And the sheets I lay within weren't the silk I was used to. When I attempted to roll over to look around, I found myself overwhelmed with pain that spread through my midsection. After getting my breath back, I tentatively touched my abdomen, only to find it bandaged all around._


	11. The FrançoisDeluxe Hotel

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**10. The François-Deluxe Hotel

* * *

**

Burnt toast. The smell of it overpowered my senses. Enough to wake me from my comfortable sleep, it crept up my nasal passages until I could taste it at the back of my throat. It drifted all the way to my brain and took over my thoughts. I'd always hated the smell of burnt toast. It was just off-putting proof that some fool had overcooked my breakfast again.

Yawning loudly, I opened my eyes only to shut them again against the unexpected, harsh sunlight. Who opened my curtains? I tried again, this time squinting until my eyes had become accustomed to the light. Only when my vision had fully adjusted did I realise something was wrong.

This wasn't my bedroom. Instead of being pink with a large, silver, swirly 'S' painted on it, the ceiling above me was plain white. And the sheets I lay within weren't the silk I was used to. When I attempted to roll over to look around, I found myself overwhelmed with pain that spread through my midsection. After getting my breath back, I tentatively touched my abdomen, only to find it bandaged all around.

I was confounded to say the least. I tried to think back to how I could have got here- wherever _here _was. The last thing I remembered was preparing for the prom. To be precise, I was trying to decide what to do with my hair. Other snippets of my memory came and went; Zeke in a tux, bright lights… screaming? Maybe that was a dream. Or maybe _this _was a dream. But then, what would explain the pain.

What if I'd been drugged? I was hit with panic as I realised that all sorts of things could have happened to me. Had there been an accident? Perhaps I was in hospital. But where was Ryan? And why the burning toast?

"Breakfast's ready!" A female voice came from out of nowhere. Her cheery voice was slightly muffled but shocked me all the same.

I sat upright, despite the soreness and took a good look around. I was alone in the room, though the door was open. It was a large and mainly white bedroom with a very modern design. The bed I lay on was huge, even compared to my one at home. On the nightstand beside me was a lamp, a phone, an alarm clock and a family photo of a young Asian couple and their baby. Their unfamiliar smiles beamed at me, frozen in genuine happiness.

"Henry!" It was the same voice, but louder this time. "Come get your toast!" I could hear footsteps getting louder outside the open door and my heart was filled with both fear and excitement.

A woman with long black hair walked straight past my room. I only caught sight of her for a second but could tell that she was the beautiful young mother from the photo beside me. Her footsteps came to a sudden stop, then continued as she gradually retreated. She peered at me from outside the doorway, her eyes narrowed as if she didn't trust what she was seeing.

I don't know why, but I slowly pulled my hand from beneath the covers and waved at her. An impossibly large grin spread across her face and her dark eyes twinkled. I felt instantly comforted by her warmth. My doubts were put at ease.

"You're awake." She gasped, stepping into the room.

I took in the sight of her. I could tell she'd been a model. She was tall and slim and had a bone-structure to die for. Her face was gorgeous and her shiny, black, flowing hair was perfect, even as it hung in a plain style on her shoulders. She was wearing an evidently expensive, casual dress and fluffy grey slippers. I guessed that she was in her mid-twenties.

She sat on the side of my bed, her bright smile not fading. "How are you feeling?"

Having her so close to me, beaming from ear to ear, was quickly becoming overbearing and irritating. I shuffled away slightly and shrugged. "Who're you?" I asked, looking her up and down with scrutiny. "How did I get here?"

She chuckled to herself, only bothering me further, then answered. "Oh, of course." her voice was patronisingly kind and joyful. Each word came out with a hint of laughter and she seemed to me like one of those sugary-sweet kids TV presenters. "I'm Vivienne Luong." She introduced herself, proudly reaching out a hand for me to shake. I ignored it and she eventually pulled away. "It's so good to see you've finally woken up." As she said the words, her smile faltered and I could tell that she was starting to doubt me. Then again, I _had_ been quite harsh.

"How did I get here?" I said again. She was trying my patience. I hated it when people where too nice to be true.

She frowned slightly; the first negative expression I'd seen on her face. It didn't suit her. "You don't remember?" She asked.

"Obviously not." I snapped, more bitterly than I'd intended.

She blinked away the flash of offence in her eyes. "Oh," she said again. "Right… okay." I could tell she was struggling for words. "Um… God, how do I say this?"

I hate to admit it, but she was scaring me. My mind was filled with dread as I began to wonder just what might have happened to get me here. What circumstances had been so bad that even the memory of them wiped the smile off this cheerful woman's face. "Just tell me." I demanded. I don't know if I really wanted to hear the answer.

"Let's see," She began, mulling over ways to commence the story. "I guess it all started when my husband, Ken, told me to pick up our son from his friends house." I wondered the relevance but continued to listen. "Henry- that's our son- was meant to be staying over at Sebastian's for the night but Ken said that there was an illness going round and it was best if we stayed indoors."

"But what's this got to do with _me_?" I cut in.

She barely took this into consideration. Just nodded and continued. "So, I was driving Henry back from Sebastian's. All the roads where in complete chaos. People were running all over the place. Screaming. Bleeding." She looked up and shuddered as if visualising the memory. "Henry was crying in the backseat. I turned around for a second. Just wanted to calm him down." Her eyes darkened. "But I guess I took my eyes off the road for too long. I-I… hit something. Someone." She paused. "You."

My eyes widened as I backed away from her as far as I could. "You mean you ran me over?"

"I-it… was an accident." She stammered quickly. "I'm so sorry."

I was having none of it. I shot her my most hateful and disgusted glare. "So then what, huh?" I asked. "You thought you'd take me home with you? Keep me quiet?" She shook her head desperately. "You _kidnapped _me!" I yelled. I grabbed the phone from the bedside table and began to dial. "I'm calling the police. Then, I'm calling my father and having you sued."

She looked down with shame. "There aren't any police." She said sadly.

I scoffed, not going to fall for whatever trick she was trying to pull. But when I raised the phone to my ear, I just got dial-tone. I dialled again. Same result. I called Daddy. Nothing. And, as I continued to try ever phone number I knew, she proceeded to explain.

"The infection. It got out of control." Her head was hanging down but I saw her tears fall onto the bed. "Everyone's dead, honey. I'm sorry."

I slammed the phone with my hand until it hurt. "Shut up!" I told her, tossing the phone across the room. The plastic shattered as it collided with the wall.

"Please…" She begged quietly.

But what did she want? My forgiveness? She could have killed me. And now I was trapped with her. And she was talking nonsense. And she'd made it impossible for me to get help by disconnecting the phone.

"Please, just-…"

"Shut up!" I yelled again. I threw off the covers and clambered painfully to my feet. I was hit with even more hatred for her as I found myself clad only in underwear and a man's shirt. "You _undressed _me?!" I asked incredulously. I was furious. This was disgusting. She was a crazy, messed up woman. I needed out.

My gaze fell on the door; my only escape. But what I saw was not what I expected. The threshold was no longer empty as I had last seen it. Instead, within the doorway stood a small child. An adorable boy of about five-years of age. He looked up at me with huge, glistening brown eyes. His black hair was ruffled untidily. His bottom lip quivered with fear. Fear of me.

"M-mommy…?" He said quietly, not taking his gaze from me as if I would strike him at any moment.

Vivienne turned to him at once. She hastily rubbed the tears from her cheek and plastered the cheesy smile back on her face. "Hey, baby." Her affectionate greeting was far from soothing as her voice cracked with emotion. She rushed to him and lifted him into her arms with ease. "D'you wanna go and get your breakfast?"

He shook his head as his fearful gaze burned holes in me and I was overcome with guilt. "Why were you fighting?" His tiny voice trembled as he spoke.

"We weren't fighting, were we?" Vivienne lied, turning to me. I nodded obediently. "See, Henry." She assured, squeezing the child into a hug before setting him back down onto the floor. "Now, run along and get your toast." She gave him an encouraging pat on the back, gently edging him out of the room. "I put honey on it. Your favourite."

His eyes lit up at that but before leaving he eyed me again with suspicion. He tugged on his mothers dress and she bent down to his level. He whispered in her ear but I guess, at that age, you're skills of discretion aren't fully developed. I heard every word.

"You said that the pretty girl would be happy. C-cos we saved her life. You said-…"

Vivienne silenced him with a kiss on the cheek. He scrunched up his nose with disapproval and complied when she told him once again to get his breakfast.

I'd never felt so bad about anything in my life. I hated myself for the hurt I had caused this poor family. I'd lashed out at them when all they had tried to do was help.

"Is that true?" I asked quietly, sinking back into a seated position on the bed. "You saved my life?"

Vivienne shrugged and shut the door behind her, clearly still afraid that I'd have another shouting match. "I suppose, if we hadn't found you, you would have ended up infected too."

_Great, _I thought. _And _that's _how I'd repaid her for it. _"Thank you." I said humbly. "And…sorry for… y'know."

To my great relief, her smile returned, if not a bit wary. "It's okay." She nodded. "I understand why you were upset." Her face lit up suddenly and she reopened the door. "So, what do you think of honey on toast?"

**

* * *

  
**

The rest of that day was spent getting to know each other. Vivienne explained to me that her husband had worked for the government. He'd been one of the few officials against the testing of what eventually turned out to cause the infection. When news spread of the illness, he'd gone away to set up a survivors camp, saying he'd be back for her as soon as he'd found somewhere safe for them. He'd never returned.

She also told me that it was unlikely that Ryan was still alive. That one was a hard pill to swallow. But she assured me that we'd look for him one day and she showed me her telescope from which I could see almost the entire city. We were on the top floor of a luxury hotel in one of the deluxe-suites. The family lived there full-time. I spent that day apologising to her as often as I could and telling her how much I appreciated what she'd done for me. Every time, she would tell me that it was fine.

I counted myself lucky for being found by such lovely happy people, but something told me that things weren't as that seemed on the surface. That night, I heard Vivienne sobbing in the room next door to mine.

As the months went on, we became more like a family. Henry was like the adorable and mischievous brother I had never had, but nothing stopped me from scouring the streets below for my _real _brother everyday with the telescope. We never left the building, all our supplies came from the other rooms and apartments in the complex. Having seen the turmoil of the world around me from the safety of indoors, I realised just how fortunate I was. The building was powered by solar panels so we were never out of electricity. We were even equipped with weapons. Ken had left a closet full of them; guns and other arms given to him by the government. I felt secure and wanted. Vivienne, Henry and I formed a bond that, it seemed, would never be broken.

It was a comfortable home life, but I knew deep down that it wouldn't last forever. I'd always sort of known that behind her smile, Vivienne was coping alone with the depression of having lost the love of her life. I guess, one day, she just couldn't take it anymore.

She looked like a mermaid when I found her in the bath that morning. Her jet black hair flowed mystically around her pale, submerged face. She was wearing her favourite dress; an elegant turquoise number that fanned out at the bottom like a tail. She was serene, with her eyes closed as if in sleep. I could tell she'd been a model.

She'd mentioned once that drowning is said to be the most peaceful way to go. But I couldn't stop myself from wondering how she'd managed to hold herself under the water for so long and not lose her nerve at the thought of her young son stumbling upon her dead body in the family bathroom. I wondered how she managed to do it without stopping herself at the thought of me having to dispose of her body.

Beside an empty bottle of pills on the edge of the tub was a note. I sat on the toilet, as she lay in the bath beside me, and read her meticulous handwriting.

_Sharpay,_

_I'm sorry you had to find me like this, but I didn't want to jump from the roof knowing that you or Henry might see me splattered on the pavement. I know you probably think I'm selfish. A coward, even. But there was nothing else I could do. This world is no good for any of us. I realised a long time ago that things would never get better. Maybe one day, in another world, we'll meet again. Until then, I hope you find peace._

_Take care of Henry for me. _

_Sorry,_

_V_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: **It seems like you guys like the wall of reviewer fame! It's just the appreciation you deserve! And rather than the usual collective thanks, I thought I'd give my latest reviewers a bit of a message too.

**bex sharpay tisdale-evans 3; **Yes! She's finally arrived and I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long! As much as I'd love to promise you that nothing will happen to her, I just can't guarantee anything :P But I hope I can do her character justice, if only for you.

**HisDelilah;** Thanks for being a frequent reviewer! I'm always keen to hear what you have to say (even if it is just 'UD SOON' lol!) It's a constant reminder that people care so thanks!

**general wildcat; **You know what I'm like with cliffhangers, I just can't help it haha! I think you're right about something big coming… I hope you're pleased with where it goes.

**PerfectxSweetheartx;** Firstly, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! With the response I've got for this story, I can pretty much guarantee that I'm not gonna leave it. Well, not until the very end. As far as Troy… you never know what I might do. Though, it's not a tough one to guess :P

**lilmissmonique;** I'm thrilled you loved it. Thanks for being a regular reviewer, not only for this story but my others too. Much love.

**ChaylorBabyx3; **I'm glad you graced me with a review. Yay for Chaylor fans! (You may have guessed I'm quite the Chaylor supporter myself). It's so great to know that you're intrigued and hope you read on. And finally, welcome to the reviewer wall of fame!

**chaylorXtraylorlover101****; **You're another frequent reviewer, thanks! I hope Troy is alright too, poor guy. I'll work hard to update ASAP ;D

**ChaylorTwilightQueen10****; **I LOVE Not Another Teen Movie! And that's one of the funniest bits in it. 'She's got a gun!' Will Gabriella ever find out, you ask. Well, we'll have to wait and see *shrugs*.

Phew! And thanks to everyone who added me to their favourites and alerts. Guess who only has 6 exams left and then will be off until September…

**Next Time; **_It happened so quickly that none of them expected it. Not even Sharpay had seen it coming. It was as if her broken heart had taken over her body, rather than her mind. And, although she had no qualms about what she was doing, she couldn't have stopped herself if she tried. _

_**xX M Xx**_


	12. The Hospital Revelations

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**11. The Hospital Revelations

* * *

**

"And what happened to the little boy?" Taylor asked as Sharpay finished her heartbreaking story. "Is he…?"

Sharpay smiled faintly but did not take her eyes from the road ahead. "He's still at the hotel." She explained as she took a right-turn.

She was driving a large SUV with enough space for all of them. Their destination was still the hospital despite the fact that Troy seemed considerably better with his eyes half-open and speech less slurred. They were all, of course, relieved to have been found by Sharpay; had it not been for her they would certainly have faced painful deaths, but the atmosphere was undeniably tense. Sharpay seemed blissfully oblivious to occasional uncomfortable looks that Gabriella gave Taylor.

"It wasn't a coincidence, y'know." Sharpay spoke up suddenly. "I didn't just stumble upon your car by chance."

They knew she would continue without encouragement so saved themselves the energy of asking her to elaborate. As expected, she explained soon after the pause.

"I've been watching." She told them, swollen with pride. "See, I saw all this movement through the telescope yesterday. Then, this morning, same place. I guess that dump must've been your house." She added derisively. "Then I saw you guys jumping into the car and driving all over the place. You were close to the hotel so I grabbed all the guns I could carry from Ken's closet and I came down to find you. Saved your lives." If it was possible, she seemed even _more _conceited. "You can thank me later."

She glanced expectantly at the bemused faces and guessed that they weren't in the mood for gratitude. With a scowl, she turned her attention back to the road. "What's wrong with you guys anyway?" She asked; caring less about their injuries and more about their atypical misery.

"They broke into our house." Gabriella told her bluntly. She was about to say more when Chad spoke up with disagreement.

"They didn't _break _in." He turned to her from the front passenger seat. He was irritated that no-one had yet acknowledged that he had been right all along. "We opened the door and_ let_ them in."

Gabriella swallowed down the intense regret for that decision. She couldn't help but wonder; if she'd thought things through properly, not been so overcome with excitement that she couldn't see the various flaws in their presumption, Troy and Taylor would never have gotten hurt. Maybe if she'd just listened to Chad, something she never thought she'd be sorry for, none of this would have happened. Maybe it was all her fault.

"We get it, Chad." Taylor threw in, seeing how Gabriella had been swarmed by regret and knowing that if the conversation continued it would only lead to more heartache. "You were right." She admitted. "But what happened, happened. So drop it, okay?"

The look on Chad's face showed that he didn't approve but Taylor's warning glare was enough to keep him quiet. For a moment, the car was in total, awkward silence as the words that had been left unsaid swelled around them. There was almost a bitterness amongst them as they all avoided each others eyes and tried to focus on anything but this.

"Did… you ever f-f-find… Ryan?" Troy spoke gruffly, his first coherent sentence since being back at the apartment.

A look of sadness glazed over Sharpay's face as both Taylor and Gabriella's sudden anxiety went unnoticed.

"No…" Said Sharpay dejectedly. "But," her solemnity lifted instantly and her face shone with hope. "I will, though. I know I will. He's out there." She finished with certainty.

She thought it must have been twin-senses or something, because she could still feel Ryan's presence with her. Sometimes, it was almost as if she was just going to round a corner one day and he'd be there. She couldn't wait for that day. For now, she felt a part of her was missing. Misplaced, but not lost forever.

Taylor glanced at her best-friend before clearing her throat and speaking. "Do you…" she rethought what she had planned to say. Then, she wondered why she was saying anything at all. "Um… do you remember _anything _about the prom?"

When Sharpay nodded, Taylor could have sworn that her heart stopped beating.

"A few little things." She answered. She did not go into detail, not realising its significance to Taylor. "Why?"

"We're here!" Gabriella called out with a little too much enthusiasm. To the others, it seemed she was just glad to be where they could help Troy. And, of course, that was part of the reason for her eagerness. But she was mainly pleased to be able to cut Taylor and Sharpay's treacherous conversation short. She didn't know why Taylor was pushing such a delicate subject. The guilt, probably.

Sharpay pulled up as close to the hospital entrance as she could. The car park was littered with open ambulances and cars of the naïve people who'd thought that hospital treatment would help them on that fateful night. Before they could exit the vehicle, Sharpay equipped each one of them with a gun. Then, with the help of Chad and Gabriella, Troy was moved out of the car, through the reception area of the hospital and onto the nearest bed. Taylor followed, limping in the supportive arms of Sharpay.

"We can't stay for long." Sharpay told them all. "We need to be in and out as quickly as possible. So grab what you need and get back to the car."

They complied obediently, all of them knowing already without her having to say it. Taylor and Gabriella sifted through every cupboard and pocketed any medicine or pills or equipment they could find. Sharpay paced by the door, keeping vigilant watch for unwanted company. In the far corner of the lobby, on one of the many abandoned beds, Troy lay waiting for what his best-friend had to say.

"Let's patch you up then." Chad said softly. He glanced around and grabbed a roll of bandage from the nearest surface. Then, he took Troy's bitten hand at the wrist and began to wrap the white material over the wound.

Troy watched as his friend paid attention to the bite, without actually noticing it. It made no sense, he knew, but Chad was ignoring what was right in front of him. He saw that Troy had been bitten. But he refused to acknowledge it. Troy couldn't have been more grateful. For now, they were acting as if this was all normal.

"Thanks." He said as Chad finished. The appreciation was not for the dressing of the wound. It was for Chad's purposeful ignorance. It was for Chad turning a blind eye and being a loyal and trustworthy friend.

"No problem." Chad answered bleakly. He was clearly torn over what he had just done. He knew he shouldn't deny this. Because Troy was going to change, whether he wanted to or not. But he felt like accepting the bite would be like betraying his friend. And that was something he was never willing to do.

Across the room, Gabriella became aware of the inquisitive, far-away frown on Sharpay's face. It looked as though the girl was lost in her own thoughts.

"You okay, Sharpay?" A sudden rush of apprehensive worry washed over Gabriella as Sharpay turned to her. There was a foreign familiarity behind Sharpay's eyes. Gabriella knew exactly what was happening. They weren't avoiding this for much longer.

Sharpay nodded slowly but pursed her lips as she continued to delve into her own jumbled mind. "It's weird…" She began quietly. "Being around you guys, it-… I'm starting to remember."

There was a smash as Taylor's trembling hands released the bottle they held. Sharpay's words made the darker girl's skin visibly pale. Taylor's cagey eyes met Gabriella's and they shared a glance of unexplained disquiet. Sharpay noticed this but was too wrapped up in her own returning memories to care. That was, until, it _all _came back.

Sharpay's breath was knocked out of her as she was hit with a sudden burst of suppressed memories. Her mouth hung open and her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she tried to convince herself that what her mind was showing her was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. It couldn't be real. These recollections couldn't be real.

"Sharpay…" Gabriella whispered carefully. "We-."

She stopped as the blonde girl's face visibly hardened. A look of pure hatred and fury entered Sharpay's eyes. Then, she pounced.

It happened so quickly that none of them expected it. Not even Sharpay had seen it coming. It was as if her broken heart had taken over her body, rather than her mind. And, although she had no qualms about what she was doing, she couldn't have stopped herself if she tried.

Her hands flew out in all directions as she launched herself forward. Her fingers made impact with Gabriella's neck and she took an unnatural pleasure in the feeling of the other girl's skin being torn beneath her nails. Gabriella cried out, only feeding Sharpay's thirst for pain. The sound of her palm thrashing against Gabriella's cheek as she slapped her was unique. Her hand stung but she didn't stop. She took Gabriella's soft brown hair in her grip and began to pull as hard as she could. She only let go when Taylor grabbed her from behind and knocked her onto the floor.

In tears and clutching her bleeding neck, Gabriella backed as far away as she could as Taylor and Sharpay struggled on the floor. Nails and fist were flying everywhere. Both girls were screaming unheard cries over each other.

"You bitch!" Sharpay yelled repeatedly each time she managed to catch Taylor's face with her fist.

Sobbing and attempting to catch Sharpay's wildly flying hands without fighting back, Taylor continued to plead. "We're sorry." She gasped through tears as the sharp point of Sharpay's high-heeled shoe dug into her already sore ankle. "Please, stop!"

By now, the strange, violent and unprovoked fight had the attention of both Troy and Chad. They had simply watched at first, too shocked and confused to know what to do, but now it was quickly getting out of hand and they knew they had to intervene before someone was seriously injured.

Troy crossed the room with great effort to get to Gabriella. She had her back to the madness as she leaned on the reception desk with her head held low. Her body was shaking violently as she wept non-stop. He laid an apprehensive hand on her shoulder and she turned to him to reveal her wet face and puffy, red eyes. There were four red lines running across her neck, seeping a small amount of blood. Her bloodshot eyes met his and she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her as close as he could, praying that his embrace would lessen her unnerving trembling.

Chad meanwhile was struggling to separate the two thrashing girls on the floor. In the end, he had to take Sharpay by the waist and lift her clean off the ground. She writhed in his arms for a moment before softening into his hold.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked. Sharpay was no longer resisting but he did not release her. Instead, he could only watch as Taylor picked herself up without ease.

"Gabriella had nothing to do with it." Taylor coughed. She was slightly hunched, with one hand resting on her aching midsection and the other dabbing at her split lip.

Sharpay tensed again and Chad unconsciously tightened his grip on her. "All this time," she growled through clenched teeth. "You knew."

Her eyes filled with tears as she bit down hard enough on her lip to draw blood. It finally began to sink in. It crushed her like a ton of bricks and took over all her senses. She could hold the tears back no longer and they poured down her face relentlessly. She blubbered like a child, pausing only briefly to suck in a gasp of air.

Troy saw this development in her emotions, even from across the room. "Knew what?" he asked, though he was starting to wonder if he wanted to find out.

"You knew he was dead," Sharpay continued to sob, inadvertently answering the question. "And you just let me go on."

Gabriella pulled out of Troy's embrace and turned to face Sharpay. "We're so sorry." Her voice was shrill with guilt. Taylor nodded desperately and wiped the salt water from her face.

There was a moment of turbulent silence before Chad spoke up. "Will someone _please_ explain?" He asked.

Both he and Troy were in the same boat of complete cluelessness. They had no idea what had happened, what had reduced the girls to tears, what had been so bad that it had spurred a physical fight between them. And, as desperate as they were to find out, they were reluctantly fearful of the truth.

Fury erupted through Sharpay once again as the same image popped up in her mind. "They killed him!" She screamed, struggling against Chad's restraining arms. She was almost like a tantruming child as her limbs thrashed around randomly. "They killed my brother! I saw them!"

Troy's eyes met Chad's for a second before both boys looked at their girlfriends. What they hadn't expected was for Gabriella and Taylor to bow their heads in shame. This shocking act came as unwanted confirmation of Sharpay's awful claim.

No words could be found for that moment and they were left in silence once again.

For the first time, Sharpay allowed the grief to fully get to her. She realised that she would never see Ryan again. He would never be there to drop his own plans to help with hers. He'd never again be her voice of reason, the angel on her shoulder giving her unheard lessons on morals. He'd never give her that proud smile she'd always loved when she'd done something right. He was gone. Forever. _They _had taken him from her.

"We should get back to the car." Troy proposed. It was clear that they all needed a little time to think, but they weren't safe where they stood.

They'd all sort of expected it, but when Sharpay shook her head to say no, they were filled with dread.

"No way," she said simply. "You're not coming anywhere with me."

Chad turned her around in his arms so they were facing each other and he had his hands on her shoulders. "We need you, Sharpay." He admitted. "What are we supposed to do?"

The lack of care on her face was strangely intimidating. In fact, the idea of them being left out there to fend for themselves seemed to please her. "Walk," she suggested frankly. "Hot-wire an ambulance, surrender to those grey sons-of-bitches--…" She finished with a careless laugh. "I don't really care." She added. "It's not my problem."

"But-."

The feigned lack of sympathy disappeared as Sharpay lost patience with Chad. "Don't you get it?" She asked, hurt by disbelief. "They _murdered _my brother!"

Taylor sniffed and advised as politely and softly as she could that they keep the noise down. Her fear that Sharpay would take it the wrong way, quickly became the last of her worries as they all realised that the suggestion had come a little too late.

It seems that the empty hospital wasn't as empty as they'd presumed. In actual fact, it was inhabited by a lone Savage who had slowly been locating his prey by the sound of their voices. Sharpay's final outburst had been enough for him to ascertain their exact positions. Now confident of his own impending success, he finally made his presence know to them.

He burst through a door to their right. No words had to be spoken before all five of the shocked teenagers made a run for the entrance.

Troy had to battle through the haze of agony and dizziness, thankful for the aid of his girlfriend as she helped him to the car. Knowing that Taylor was too slow with her limp, Chad scooped her into his arms with ease and carried her outside. Sharpay was running close behind them when a clatter and a thud made it known that she had lost her footing and fallen.

From the safety of inside the locked car, they watched as her gun slid from her hand and out of reach. Then, as the Savage found her and pounced onto her defenceless body. They heard her screaming for help as she fought as hard as she could to keep her flesh away from the gnashing teeth. And they knew they had a choice to make.

The keys were already in the ignition. They could easily just drive away and leave her there. After all, that's what she had planned to do to them. But it was safe to say that there was already enough guilt swimming around. And having her death on their hands would add too much to the already unbearable equation.

Chad already knew what he had to do. He already knew that he was the only one in a good condition to do it. He took a deep breath to ready himself, gave Taylor a kiss on the cheek and exited the car. He ran as fast as he could at the muscled creature and wrestled him to the ground. Sharpay didn't miss the opportunity of freedom and rolled instantly out of the way. She scrambled to retrieve her gun and then got to her feet.

Other than earlier that day, she'd never fired a gun. And, aside from her practice in golf, she'd never been confident with her aiming skills. Now, Chad's life depended on her accuracy. If she missed the shot, she could blow the innocent boys head off.

"Shoot him!" Chad begged. He was using all his strength to hold the Savage off him. But it didn't help matters that, in doing so, he was rolling them both this way and that, creating an impossible target.

Holding the gun in both hands, Sharpay pointed the barrel towards the writhing bodies on the floor. She steadied her aim. Pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through her mind. She hadn't noticed, but somewhere between locating her target and shooting, she had shut her eyes. _Great idea, _she thought. She opened them now with fearful anticipation and hoped desperately that she wouldn't see Chad lying dead on the ground in front of her.

He was grunting and groaning at the strain of having to remove the heavy, dead body of the Savage from on top of him. The relief of not having killed him was enough to make Sharpay laugh out loud.

When he'd freed himself from beneath the carcass, Chad slowly pulled himself to a standing position. "Good shot." He congratulated her, genuinely surprised to still be alive.

She nodded dismissively as if she had expected this outcome. Her triumphant smile only remained on her face for a second longer. It vanished as soon as she caught sight of the crimson stain seeping through the white areas of Chad's black shirt. Her heart jumped into her throat at the possibility of having shot him.

He followed her shaken gaze to a small round hole in the fraying fabric of his top. With a frown, he traced the area with tentative fingertips before raising the hand in front of his face for inspection. "Oh…" He said quietly upon noticing that his fingers were soaked with blood. He glanced down again at his side where the thick liquid was now pulsing from the bullet hole in his favourite t-shirt.

He looked back at Sharpay expectantly, as if waiting for her to explain. She was at a loss for words but couldn't help but notice how his eyelids fluttered slightly every time he blinked. "Ch-Chad…?" She began reluctantly also unable to ignore how his breath was coming out in heaved pants and he was swaying slightly on the spot.

He opened his mouth a bit and gave her a sluggish nod. All his movements seemed to be going in slow-motion. Even when he blinked, his eyes stayed closed for longer than they were open.

She couldn't believe she was asking this. "Are you okay?"

He shut his eyes and frowned as if trying to come up with an answer. It didn't hurt. But he was more confused than anything. Everything was all jumbled and blurred and backwards and slow. He felt like he was floating. He felt like he was suffocating. And Sharpay was moving all over the place. At one point, he could have sworn there was two of her.

"Mm-hmm." He answered. His own voice bounced around in his head. He suddenly felt unbalanced, as if he'd just stepped off a round-about, and felt the urge to grab on to Sharpay for support.

When he reached for her, however, she was not there. She was fading away into the darkness that swarmed from the corners of his vision. He was powerless to stop it. And, before he knew, the entire world had faded into black nothing.

**

* * *

A/N: **Boo me for the delay in update! Sorry. But I'm ecstatic to announce that I have no more exams and so am off school until September! Can you believe? That leaves me with a lot of time to write, don't you agree?

Thank you to my_ four_ new readers (wow! I love that people are still discovering this) for reviewing; **ILuvZacEfron**, **scabbyabby**,** mzwendy85** and **MaxRideRox** (btw, yea I did get a bit of inspiration from I Am Legend but mainly from my favourite film 28 Days Later! And you were close with your prediction. I hope I've dodged your rubber chicken! Those things can be deadly ;D). Also thanks to my usuals, **ChaylorTwilightQueen10**, **bex **(I hope you're not too peeved off at my sorta fearsome portrayal of Sharpay in this chapter, what with her catfight and then shooting Chad... The next one is a flashback and after that, I try to get more into her caring side so just hold on!), **HisDelilah****, ****general wildcat** and** lilmissmonique**. You know, of course, my loyal friends, that I have an endless supply of love for you!

On another note, happy belated birthday to Her Majesty the Queen and here is your preview for what's to come!

_**Next Time;**_

_I wondered if this was all a dream. It didn't make sense. But it felt so real. I could still feel Gabriella's hand on my shoulder. Could still distantly hear her telling me that I did what I had to do. That _we_ did what we had to do. I could see my own blood-drenched hands and smell the metallic tang that the liquid emitted. But I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe any of it._

Yep, we'll be finding out why on Earth they killed our favourite jazz-square-enthusiast! Stay tuned!

_**xX M Xx**_


	13. The Right Thing To Do?

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**12. The Right Thing to Do?

* * *

**

I think it was more than good luck that allowed me to find Gabriella in that frenzied maze of terror. I think it was the sort of instinct that only the best of friends could share. Because, the chances of locating one person in an auditorium this size and full of this many people, were less than slim. Yet, there we were together, hiding under the same table.

I'd been there before her. I'd given up screaming Chad's name and had long since dived into the nearest covered area. I lay, curled up in a ball, under the refreshment table on the polished wooden floor. Through the small gap where the tablecloth didn't quite reach the ground, I watched the thousands of feet that sprinted and stumbled all over the place and I hoped with all my might that none would wander too close to me. I let myself get lost in cover of the cloth that draped all around. It was like a tent. The only problem was that I couldn't lock it. And, although the material slightly dampened the sounds of my surroundings, it didn't block it out.

I heard every scream. Every cry for help. Sometimes, I recognised the voices. Most of the time, I didn't.

I was waiting, though I'm not sure what for. For it to die down maybe. Or to be found. To be killed. I wanted to shut my eyes and then reopen them to find myself back in Chad's arms. I wanted to rewind the day and stay at home tonight instead of walking into this death-trap of a prom. But those sorts of dreams were unrealistic. I knew that I was probably going to die under here. As much as I wanted to shut the world out, it would find me eventually.

When Gabriella arrived, sliding in from out of nowhere, I thought my time had come. I thought I'd been discovered and my life was about to end. She was just as surprised as me to find that we were face to face with one another.

We held each other, both of us shaking and snivelling. She kept asking questions to which I had no answer. What's happening? Where's Troy? I kept telling her promises I wasn't sure I could keep. We'll find them. It's gonna be okay.

I don't know how long we were under there. Long enough for us to let our guard down, I suppose. Long enough to forget about the danger and to neglect our strict seating positions. Long enough for Gabriella to feel the need to stretch her legs and unknowingly poke her feet out from within the tablecloth.

She jumped. I noticed that. And then, she was gone. Within a second. Kicking and screaming. Dragged away by her ankle. Out of our tent. Our fort. Gone.

I hesitated for only a moment as I considered whether or not to go after her. Then I tore away the cover of the silk cloth, crawled out from beneath the table and got to my feet. I'd forgotten how chaotic it had been out there. The damage to the schools auditorium was far worse now, and more evident due to the fact that there were a lot less people. They must have all died, I thought. Though the large room was still teeming with life.

To my surprise, Gabriella was standing right beside me. Her back was to me and I could see she was struggling. Peeking over her shoulder, I didn't quite believe what I saw.

Ryan Evans.

But this wasn't _our _Ryan Evans. No, he was different. He was crazy. Possessed. He had both of Gabriella's wrists in his hands and was trying to bite her fingers, the strangest thing I'd ever seen.

I took one large step past Gabriella so I stood nearly between the two and gave Ryan a hard shove on the shoulder. "Ryan!" I yelled but he didn't even seem to notice me. He squeezed harder on Gabriella's wrists and continued to gnash at her. "Stop!" I pushed him harder this time and he let go of her, staggering backwards onto the refreshment table we'd hidden under.

I noticed his eyes then for the first time. Ryan had been voted 'Nicest Eyes' in the yearbook polls. They were gorgeous. Unique. They _were, _but not now. Now they were glazed over, as if someone had painted the entire eyeball grey. He blinked blindly and peered at nothing.

He only stayed down for a moment. My actions seemed to anger him. He let out a growl and Gabriella and I whimpered simultaneously. I didn't know what was going on, what had happened to him or what was going to happen to us. All I knew was that I was terrified for my life and I was frightened that Ryan might take it from me. I would never have thought him capable of hurting anyone. But something in him tonight made me reconsider.

I took a slow step away from him but my movement seemed to trigger something in his head and he leapt up, his fingers brandishing long claws. He pointed them straight at Gabriella. She flashed me a look of plea before running around the table in an attempt to escape from him.

With her trying to flee from him, Ryan was distracted enough to leave me to do as I pleased. I was given the options of abandoning my friend or using this opportunity to take Ryan by surprise and beat him. I, of course, chose the latter.

I'm not sure what my intentions had been though I must have been out to hurt him. Why else would I have picked up that shard of broken punchbowl glass? It was large and disgustingly sharp and would undoubtedly do damage. I wasn't thinking. I didn't consider what I was doing before I did it.

Ryan had been chasing Gabriella round and round the table like something out of a cartoon. When the time was right, I stepped right into his tracks with the shard of glass held out in both hands in front of me. He didn't see it coming.

It pierced into his chest and stopped him dead in his tracks. I felt the warm liquid of his blood gushing over my hands and dripping down my wrists. He clutched my arms, sending the blades of his nails into my skin.

I don't know what came over me then. It was like I lost control over myself for just a second. And, in an act of pure sadism, I twisted the glass.

It must have torn him apart from the inside out. The cavity I had created in his chest split open. A torrent of red mess erupted from within. He released his hold on me and collapsed onto the ground. I looked down at him as he lay motionless, sleeping.

The Ryan I remember.

He was no longer the predator that was after my best friend. He was the funny, underappreciated drama guy that turned out to be a great companion. He was a good person with a hole in his chest and a suit covered in blood. A talented dancer and singer, he was destined to be something great; friendly and caring. And dead.

Because of me.

"T-Tay… Taylor?" Although she stood beside me, Gabriella's voice sounded miles away. I let the glass fall from my hands. Her hand was on my shoulder. Ryan was at my feet. And eyes were burning holes in my back.

I turned around, ignoring Gabriella's reassurances, and gazed at the open auditorium door. The madness of the world outside didn't interest me. Only the pink-clad, blonde girl that stood within the threshold. Staring right back at me.

Sharpay was all the way on the other side of the room but I could see that her eyes were focused solely on me. She just stood there, piercing me with her dead gaze, blinking and breathing heavily. Then, she did something that shocked me. She turned away. She turned her back on me and began to walk slow and shuffling steps out the door. She trudged as if in a sleepwalking daze and she didn't stop until the dark of the night had swallowed her.

I wondered if this was all a dream. It didn't make sense. But it felt so real. I could still feel Gabriella's hand on my shoulder. Could still distantly hear her telling me that I did what I had to do. That _we _did what we had to do. I could see my own blood-drenched hands and smell the metallic tang that the liquid emitted. But I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe any of it.

Sinking slowly to my hands and knees, I crawled back into my tent, put my bloody hands over my ears and shut my eyes. I prayed then. I don't know how long for. The same unanswered prayer, over and over.

_Let me wake up now. Please let me wake from this nightmare._

**

* * *

A/N: **Once again, apologies for yet another late update! Really sorry!! I don't even have an excuse. Also, sorry this chapter is short and, in my opinion, pretty rubbish. AND as my internet is acting up (as usual) I won't be able to name my reviewers this time. Sorry for that too. I'm such a pleb today. :( I promise I'll up the standard! Please don't abandon ship.

_**Next Time;**_

_Karma. That's what this was. Taylor had taken the life of who Sharpay loved most. And now, the tables had turned. That's just the way things are. It's just justice._

_**xX M Xx**_


	14. The Departure

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**13. The Departure

* * *

**

Karma. That's what this was. Taylor had taken the life of who Sharpay loved most. And now, the tables had turned. That's just the way things are. It's just justice**. **

Sharpay should have felt better for it. She and Taylor were even now. Chad's life for Ryan's. But, of all the feelings that came over her, relief was not one of them. Grief for the fact that she would never get her brother back, no matter how many lives she took or saved. _That _was one of the emotions she felt. Guilt for hurting someone who wasn't at all involved in this terrible mess. That was another. Anxiety for being kept here in a place she did not know. Worried for the young boy she'd left alone at home. Fearful for how they might punish her for her crime. But, relief? For what?

Words and images and sounds and memories and emotions all merged into one unbearable and uncontrollable thought process that swirled recklessly through her brain and destroyed her peace of mind. Her wretched thoughts screamed at her from the inside, a force that she could not block out, regardless of how hard she tried to silence it. Within her head was nothing but utter turmoil. And yet, on the outside, she couldn't have seemed more composed.

She lounged carelessly on a large, antique armchair and gazed into the orange and yellow flames that danced within the fireplace. She seemed so comfortable, so relaxed, that only a mind reader would know how she _really _felt. The others in the room had more than once risked a hesitant glance at her, not believing the impossible tranquillity in her eyes. Not long ago, she'd been fearsome and violent. Now…?

She hadn't spoken since Chad collapsed in her arms. She'd said nothing as Gabriella took control of the SUV and drove them to this impressive mansion that she and Taylor called home. Not one word of protest. Upon arrival, she'd simply taken a seat by the fire and allowed the world to go on around her as she battled to ignore her racing thoughts. A battle that she was slowly losing.

As the Grandfather clock in the hall chimed 4'o'clock, Sharpay got to her feet. She brushed some non-existent dirt from her baggy, grey t-shirt and flicked her long ponytail from one shoulder to the other. With a look of conviction plastered on her face, ignoring the questioning glances she received, she kept her determined gaze fixated on the door that led to the hallway and ultimately her exit.

"I'm leaving." She announced in answer to the question she knew was on their tongues.

Troy stopped his uneasy pacing on the other side of the room. "You can't." He answered simply. He had presumed that she might make this decision, but he was determined to do everything he could to keep them all together. They were stronger united. And to reunite with someone from high school and let them slip out of your fingers was just out of the question. Sharpay was the third survivor he had found. They couldn't separate the growing group. "We have to stick together."

Sharpay almost smiled for his naivety. It seemed as if he still believed in happily ever afters and love prevailing all. She shook her head. "Henry's waiting." She explained, although her decision would have been the same even had he not been.

She preferred to be alone. Being with these guys made her feel like she had even more people to take care of. Not to mention the fact that she could barely look at Taylor and Gabriella without a strong urge to scream at them both. There was no way she could handle staying with them.

"Bring him here." Gabriella suggested, unmoved from where she perched anxiously on a chaise-longue that matched the armchair. She wasn't quite sure where she and Sharpay stood now that the other girl's violent spurt was over. Obviously- and her developing black-eye only reiterated this- they would never be friends, but a cloud of doubt surrounded the issue of forgiveness and Gabriella was fretful for it to clear.

Sharpay had long since silently vowed to never speak to Gabriella nor Taylor again but that didn't stop her from replying through Troy. Looking only at the blue-eyed boy, she spoke again. "We're leaving the city tonight."

Troy frowned. Surely Sharpay knew that the infection had probably spread over the entire world. Moving away wouldn't be any kind of escape. "To go where?" He asked.

"Vegas." She couldn't have said anything weirder. Thankfully, however, she soon explained. "Before Vivienne--…passed away… she told me that the last thing she'd heard from her husband was that they were setting up a camp for survivors in Nevada." She noticed their looks of intense doubt but continued. "If there's any chance of me and the kid surviving this nightmare, it's there."

"You do realise," Gabriella started, not believing a word of it. "There's pretty much no chance of them actually being there." As much as she wanted it to be true, as it was the only slice of rescue they'd heard of within the harsh months, she _knew _that such wishful thinking would get them nowhere. It was impossible.

The words went right over Sharpay's head. Saying nothing more, she walked purposefully to the arched doorway and out into the bright, spacious foyer. Troy reached out a hand to stop her but she brushed him off with ease. She didn't pause when she reached the front door, though she heard Troy call feebly after her only once.

She walked over the concrete front steps and onto the gravelled driveway. The pebbles crunched underfoot in a daunting rhythm of finality. This was it. She was gone. Saying goodbye to the only friends she had left. Leaving behind all the dreams she'd ever had of those fairytale endings and perfect futures. She climbed into the car, took one steadying breath and drove away.

Her SUV smelt of blood and sweat. It was eerily silent and uncomfortably stuffy. Sharpay kept the tinted windows shut but began to hum quietly to herself to fill the noiseless void. Losing herself in the tune, she gently began to tap the rhythm of 'Bop to the Top' on the steering wheel. Her head nodded in time and before long, she was singing at the top of her voice.

It sounded wrong without Ryan's harmonies.

From the enclosed hotel car-park, up the many flights of stairs and finally to her floor, she thought only of the little boy she was returning to see. She hated the fact that she'd left him alone for so long and could only hope that the five-year-old had dealt with isolation well. She half expected to open the door and find their apartment trashed; crayon drawings on the pristine white walls, the strangely shaped, modern vases shattered on the floor. But Henry was a surprisingly well-behaved kid. And thankfully, as Sharpay took her first steps back into her home, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

She shut the door behind her and dumped her bag where she stood overlooking the vast living area. The entire far wall, which she faced, was a gigantic window, treating her to a stunning, breathtaking view. Sharpay kicked off her shoes and sank her bare toes into the soft white carpet. She took a few steps into the circle of bright, block-coloured sofas before turning to her right where Henry's bedroom door was shut. She took a deep breath to ready herself, though she wasn't sure what for, and put on her bravest of faces. She couldn't let him see that she was upset. She was all he had left.

"Hershey!" She called out in a cheerful sing-song voice, using the nickname he had acquired for his obvious snack favourite.

Sharpay had never liked children. They were ignorant. And sticky. And they always smelled of milk and paint. But being big-sis to this stranger was surprisingly enjoyable. She could see herself growing up with him. They had some fun times, playing stupid made-up games and creating dance routines to perform to the inanimate household objects. They had bad times, where the weight of the world would become too much, whether it be Sharpay's longing for her brother or Henry's for his mother; but rest assured the other one would be there to cheer them up with a funny face or ridiculous joke. They needed each other. As much as Sharpay tried to deny it, she was probably as reliant on him as he was on her. But probably the most important aspect of their relationship was that he admired her. To him, she was god. She was the backbone he needed to survive. He was the appreciation she needed to get herself out of bed in the morning. They were both winners.

"Hersh'!" She called again. Her voice faltered as a moment of dread came over her. Why wasn't he answering?

She walked briskly to his door and burst right in without knocking. He wasn't on his race-car bed or bouncing happily on his mini-trampoline. He wasn't drawing pictures at his little desk or whizzing around the room with a toy-plane in hand screaming '_sche-aa-ow' _every time he nose-dived. But Sharpay's heart was put at ease when she noticed the line of 'Action-Men' standing erect on the far side of the room.

The plastic, male-Barbie's were in a messy semi-circle, guarding the entrance to Henry's den; his blanket held up like a tent by a chair on each side. He went there when he was scared. It was often where Sharpay found him asleep in the morning. And the surrounding lookouts were a sure sign that the child was inside now.

Sharpay stepped carefully over the Action-Men, careful not to disturb their formation. She crouched by the den and pulled back the soft sheet of fabric that acted as a front door. Sure enough, Henry was curled up inside fast asleep. He began to stir just as she was about to leave him to rest and she scolded herself for waking him from such a peaceful looking slumber. She felt butterflies in her stomach as he looked up at her with his big shiny eyes. She never got over how cute he was.

There was no doubt that he'd acquired his mother's good looks. The family originated from China, so his skin was light and flawless. Sharpay had trimmed his shiny, black hair in a cute, neat bowl-cut that perfectly framed his face. His almond-shaped eyes were dark and entrancing and his animated eyebrows were amazing in their abilities to convey any kind of emotion with only a small movement of the muscles. When he smiled, it was sincere and genuine and his small teeth would glitter. When he was thinking, his little nose would wrinkle and his pink lips would purse together.

"Hey there, kiddo." Sharpay greeted as he gazed at her, squinting and blinking confusedly. "Didn't mean to wake you."

His ecstatic grin was like nothing else. Sharpay couldn't help but feel honoured that it was for her. He threw his arms around her and held on tight, rambling excitedly about how she was home and how he missed her and how he played 'zombies and superheroes' but she wasn't there to be the zombie. Sharpay nodded, squeezing him back twice as hard and adding an occasional 'Really?'. For now, she thought she'd ignore the fact that he was dribbling into her hair.

She forgot everything that had happened that day. With him, she felt like a different person. He was her escape from it all. And she loved him for that.

Letting go of him, she pulled out of his small embrace. "Come on Hersh'." She said, taking his hand and leading him out of his tent. They stepped through the line of protection with no further need for it. "Let's fix you up something yummy."

"Fabulous!" He cheered. Sharpay laughed at the effect she was having on him. _Next he'll be wearing pink, _she thought, humorously considering moulding him into a mini-her.

They made it to the kitchen where close to everything was chrome or stainless-steel and Sharpay gently lifted him up onto one of the spotless surfaces. It had taken her a while to get used to the idea of cleaning up after herself but Vivienne had taught her enough and there was no way she was going to live in filth. She'd also had to widen her repertoire of meals, since the only food she could prepare was popcorn (and, even then, Ryan would have to set the time on the microwave).

"What're you in the mood for then?" She asked him as he looked at her expectantly and hungrily.

He didn't need a second to think. His mouth was open to answer almost instantly but, ready for what she knew was coming, Sharpay was quick to cut him off.

"_Not _chocolate." She added.

He faltered for a moment and then shrugged. "Pizza?" He suggested hopefully.

Sharpay opened the freezer and leaned so far into it that her head almost disappeared. Henry giggled with pleasure she emerged with two flat, square boxes.

"Pizza it is." She confirmed.

* * *

They ate on the sofa facing the large, flat-screen HDTV. Dinner was always spent watching one of three DVDs that Henry enjoyed. They'd seen each one so many times that they could both recite each line with ease. The pizza was good. But Sharpay couldn't enjoy it with the knowledge that it may be their last hot meal. She wondered if their plans to move on were really worth it. Firstly, to uproot the orphan child and take him from his mother's home could cause far too much grief for him, even if he had already expressed enthusiasm towards the idea. Secondly, there was so much they were leaving behind. And finally, they didn't even know if there _was _a survivor's camp.

Then again, she supposed they could always come back if they found themselves disappointed. And they couldn't survive on these rations for much longer as they'd scavenged the entire building for food and it was quickly running out.

"Do you want me to help you pack?" She asked as she turned off the DVD, the credits rolling.

He nodded but said nothing. She could see the hesitation on his face.

"Are you sure you wanna go?" She looked him straight in the eye, knowing he found it impossible to lie this way. "'Cos if you don't, we don't have to."

He held her gaze. "I do." Was all he said.

Sharpay looked at him for a moment longer. Unable to resist, she planted a quick kiss on his forehead. "Okay." She said, grabbing their empty plates and making her way to the kitchen. The second her back was turned, he wiped the damp spot on his head where she had kissed him.

"I saw that, Henry." She scolded jokingly, not even having to turn around to know what he had done.

* * *

**A/N: **And that's the _other_side of Sharpay. Hope you like it. Sorry for the wait. I've been pretty recently and it was my birthday the other day so celebrations were in order :P

The usual sincerest thanks to **bex-sharpay tisdale-evans, ****lilmissmonique****, ****ChaylorTwilightQueen10****, ****mzwendy85****, ****ILuvZacEfron****, ****HisDelilah****, ****chaylorXtraylorlover101****, ChaylorBabyx3, ****2pinkstar and 7blackberry****, ****MaxRideRox** and my newest reader **spannaloveszanessa****.**

**And the preview; **_While wandering, he used the time to delve into some much needed thought. The bite on his hand tingled beneath the bandage, a constant reminder of what had happened. A constant reminder that everything was going to change._

I know what you're thinking: 'Where the hell is Chad?!' Be patient…

_**xX M Xx**_


	15. The Change

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**14. The Change

* * *

**

Inside the mansion, they were engulfed in silence, having watched the girl who'd saved them and shattered their emotions walk out of their lives. Sharpay had barely been gone five minutes, but her absence was already so evident.

With a sigh, Gabriella turned around in her chair to face her best friend. Taylor had been present in the room the entire time but, too caught up in her own thoughts, she'd paid no attention to the conversation and hadn't bothered to input any of her own views.

"How's he doing?" Gabriella asked, tentatively placing a hand on Taylor's visibly tense shoulder.

Since arriving at their home, Taylor had been seeing to Chad's horrible bullet wound as the boy lay unconscious on the costly, velvet-cushioned settee. So far, she had silently cleaned the small and neat hole, removed the bullet and stitched him up. Currently, she dabbed at the raw and swollen skin around the injury with a damp cloth, taking thorough care and being unnecessarily sensitive. She was in such a daze of close attention that Gabriella's unexpected touch caused her breath to catch in her throat.

She blinked back the surprise and turned her head to the side slightly, not looking completely at Gabriella for fear of tearing her gaze too far from Chad. "The bullet didn't go too deep." She said, giving in to the temptation to turn back to Chad and glancing back down at his tarnished abdomen.

Taking in the sight of the scar that sat uncomfortably on his side beneath his ribcage, Taylor grimaced but could not look elsewhere. She'd sewn it as best she could but the tangled and fraying thread just looked awful where it weaved through his skin.

"It was just a flesh wound." She continued without encouragement, uttering reassurances if only for her own sake. "No organs were damaged. He didn't lose a lot of blood." She nodded to herself before taking a pad of gauze from the polished, glass coffee table and gently placing it over the stitched gash. "He should be fine." She added with an exhausted sigh. "I just wish he'd wake up."

She didn't like seeing Chad like this. All unmoving and silent. She wanted his cheeky grin and the excited glimmer that he almost always had in his eyes. The way he was now was so unfamiliar. She could only hope that things would go back to normal. And sooner rather than later.

Troy stepped closer and glanced over the back of the settee at his best-friend. "He will." He told Taylor confidently as he gave Chad a quick pat on the head. "I mean, he's _Chad_." Which meant he was never down for long, never one to miss any kind of opportunity and never one to dwell on trivial things such as gunshot wounds. "He can't--…"

Troy stopped then as a sudden thought fazed him. Chad didn't look hurt. That could be seen in a good way because, of course, pain etched on his lifeless face would suggest suffering. However, at least that would be evidence of him feeling _something_. What concerned Troy was that his best friend didn't seem to be able to feel the certain agony that a bullet to the abdomen should cause. In fact, the look on his face was so peaceful that he sort of appeared to be dead.

That idea struck Troy like a bolt of lightning. Chad obviously wasn't dead because his chest was rising and falling as he breathed. But what if he didn't wake up? Troy had always had Chad. Since kindergarten. But, what if…?

"He _will _wake up, right?" He asked, his voice suddenly shaky and uncertain.

"Do I have to?" Chad groaned tiredly.

At first, it took a second for them to notice that he had spoken; his hoarse whisper had been so unexpected that it took a while to register. Then, their relief came as a rush of smiles and joyful gasps. All three of them crowded closer to him and peered into his open eyes with glee at his awakening. The breathless words they spoke came out together in a muddle of conflicting speech but they didn't care and continued to talk over each other, telling him how glad they were that he was okay.

Chad grinned back at them, albeit weakly, with an equal amount of happiness. Their vibrant faces were the only thing he could see, their eager voices the only thing he could hear and a sense of optimism floated in the air. He had no idea what was going on- the last thing he remembered was removing the dead Savage from on top of him- but he had their undivided attention and they certainly looked happy to see him.

When the initial wave of delight had died down and they had realised that talking at the same time was getting them nowhere, Taylor was the first to make a clear and uninterrupted sentence. "How do you feel?" She worried.

Thinking it an odd question, Chad simply shrugged. It was the first time he had moved since waking and the stretching of the unused muscles sent a flash of white agony through his midsection. He clenched his teeth together to suppress the yelp that was at the back of his throat and squeezed his eyes shut and kept them that way until the pain subsided to a just-about-bearable, incessant throb.

Gabriella's apologetic face was the first thing he saw upon reopening his eyes. She gave him a sympathetic smile before explaining; "Of all the medicines we got at the hospital, none of them were painkillers." She took his hand from where it lay at his side and gave it a comforting squeeze. He squeezed back and smiled with gratitude but his visible puzzlement didn't go unnoticed.

"You got shot." Troy stated, taking a seat on the settee by Chad's head. The unfamiliar pensive look in Chad's eyes prompted Troy to go on. "The bullet that killed the Savage," he continued. "Went right through him and into you. Sharpay shot you."

A brief thought went to Sharpay as Chad realised she wasn't there but his concerns about an unheard apology became the last of his worries as panic made his blood run cold. If the bullet had been in both him and the Savage, then surely he'd been exposed to the virus. It would have been carried via the bullet into his body from the Savage. The infected blood would be in his blood. And he'd become one of them. Like Troy, he'd lose all hope.

Chad was a simple boy. Almost transparent. His thoughts read in his facial expression and his emotions were never well-hidden. That's how both Gabriella and Troy had each managed to answer his questions without him having to ask them. They could just tell what he was wondering. And now, it was Taylor's turn. She knew that he was considering his exposure to infection and decided to quash his worries before he had a panic attack.

"You can only be infected by saliva." She reminded him. "Saliva in the blood. Mixing blood makes no difference."

Chad relaxed and sank further into the comfortable, soft cushions. He was treated to the view of a plainly patterned ceiling above him with gold detail. He followed the sparse painted swirls to the centre of the ceiling where a grand, shiny, glass chandelier glinted down at him.

"Where am I?" He asked, the question barely out when Taylor began to answer.

"This is Turpin Manor." She said proudly. "Our house."

Eye-brows raised and clearly impressed, Chad looked with disbelief from Taylor to Gabriella to Troy. "Manor?"

"Dude," Troy cut in eagerly. "It's huge."

'Huge' didn't even begin to describe it. Turpin Manor was an old-fashioned mansion with an uncountable amount of rooms; including a library, an indoor swimming pool and a nursery. Every piece of furniture was elegant and clearly expensive, most things embroidered with silk or plated with gold. When you entered through the huge, sturdy wooden doors, you would first find yourself in an enormous, shiny foyer with one door on each side to lead to other rooms and two flights of velvet-carpeted stairs that spiralled up to a second-floor landing. In the basement was a large pantry, a walk-in fridge and all sorts of storage facilities. Further upstairs was a labyrinth of wide hallway networks that led to grand rooms and spiral staircases. Outside, safely gated from the street, were miles of green land, an empty stable, an outdoor pool and an overgrown maze.

It was like a palace from a fairytale. The type of place you'd never believe that people could live in. The type of place you never really thought existed but always dreamed of owning when you were a child.

Since arriving, Troy hadn't had a chance to have a proper look around, though he was sure it would take more than a few hours to discover the entire place. "D'you think you could give me a tour?" He asked now, having ascertained that Chad was okay and no longer needed his attention. He looked at Gabriella excitedly, keen to become familiar with his new home.

Gabriella shook her head. She too was ready to go elsewhere now that Chad was awake but had no time to show Troy around. "I've got my radio to work on." She told him, already enthusiastic to get back to her project.

For months, Gabriella had been working on the radio. After many fruitless searches for battery-powered communication devices, she had finally stumbled upon this walkie-talkie. It was in poor condition, trampled and a bit burnt, and she'd been working hard to repair it. Thankfully, being freaky-smart came in handy for the often tricky and complicated equations and formulas behind the mechanics of it all. Her aim was to customise it enough so that it would be able to send and receive signals of different frequencies. What she hoped was that, eventually, they'd be able to contact the outside world.

"But there's a map of the grounds in the library if you can find it." She finished, making her way to the door. She beckoned Troy with her, sensing that Chad and Taylor wanted some time alone, and pointed him in the direction of the library. Then, she set off to her personal office.

Finally alone, Taylor tuned back to Chad who lay staring back at her. He raised a hand and gently brushed her hair away from her bruised and scratched face. She winced slightly as his fingers grazed her sore jaw and he retracted his hand instantly, remorseful for causing her pain. She gave him an affectionate and reassuring smile before taking his hand in hers and placing it back onto the side of her head.

"Does it hurt?" He asked as she leant her cheek into his palm and he slowly traced his fingers through her hair.

Without noticing, she tongued her split lip and nodded slightly. "I'm fine." She muttered, looking at the ground. It stung a little but she knew she'd recover quickly and it was nothing she couldn't handle. It was her emotions that were in poor condition. The last couple of days had been a whirlwind; a terrifying ride full of angst, hurt and new discoveries. She hated the unpredictability of it all. And Chad getting shot had come as an unwanted reminder that they were never safe.

"Are you sure?" Chad asked. Taylor couldn't hide her feelings from him. He knew her too well to believe that she was 'fine'. But he also knew that if she didn't feel like talking about it, then he'd hear nothing more on the matter. And it seemed that that was the case as she nodded and continued to avert her sombre and quiet gaze.

With all the effort he had, Chad pushed himself up onto his elbows and attempted to sit. The movement sent shivers of agony through his body but he didn't stop. Nor did he falter when Taylor told him it was best if he stayed still for a while. Determination was enough for him to overcome the constant, sharp throb that reverberated throughout his entire body. His determination to see her smile.

By the time he was seated fully upright, a light sweat had broken out on his forehead and his stomach felt like it was on fire. His desire to take her head in his hands and pull her face to his could not be fulfilled as he required his hands to be at his side if he wanted to keep his balance. Instead, he opted to just pucker his lips expectantly and wait for her to answer his unspoken request for a kiss.

When she looked at him, Chad could see that Taylor was trying to fight the smile that threatened to break onto her lips. She was trying to stay solemn and pensive because that's what she thought the situation needed. It was a serious matter and laughing would be inappropriate. However, in the way he always had, Chad had a talent for breaking down the barriers of should-be's. And the childishly desperate look in his eyes mixed with his eager pout and feigned innocence all merged together to create an undeniably hilarious facial expression.

She surrendered to the grin and touched her smiling lips to his. Pulling away soon after, she gently pushed him back down to lie on his back. "Now rest." She ordered. He seemed to ignore and simply continued to stare longingly up at her. "Shut your eyes." She chuckled, feeling like a mother putting a stubborn child to bed. "I'll still be here when you open them."

Her final pledge seemed to be enough for him as he slowly let his eyelids close over his loving gaze. He fell asleep instantly. And, true to her promise, Taylor remained where she sat, watching him slumber.

* * *

Meanwhile, Troy had long since abandoned his pointless, lone tour of the house, having gotten lost a few too many times. He hadn't even managed to find the library where he would have at least been able to locate a map. Now, he traipsed aimlessly through a complicated system of identical corridors, not entirely sure where he was or if he'd ever find his friends again.

While wandering, he used the time to delve into some much needed thought. The bite on his hand tingled beneath the bandage, a constant reminder of what had happened. A constant reminder that everything was going to change. This had always been his biggest fear. But when it was just a fear, he'd been sure of what he'd do. When it was nothing but a fear, he had planned to take his life before becoming one of _them_. Now that it was more than just a fear, now that it was reality, his plan was clouded with doubt and apprehension. He knew full well that if he didn't do anything, he'd eventually transform and probably kill his friends. But, for now, ignoring it was working out just fine.

Turning what felt like the hundredth corner, he found himself on the second-floor landing, overlooking the foyer. Gratitude ran through his veins for his luck at finally figuring out his location and he considered going to check on Taylor and Chad. He was making his way to the stairs when another thought came to mind and he turned on his heel and walked in the direction he had last seen Gabriella go.

It wasn't long before he had found an open door, leading to a spacious and dimly lit office. The floor was littered with paper and open books with complicated diagrams and ridiculously long words. One of the large windows was open, letting in a cooling breeze that rippled the luxurious drapes. Gabriella sat hunched over a desk in the corner with her back to him. A bright torch lit up the multitude of random bits and pieces that she leant over; metal chunks, wires and all sorts of tools. She must have been so deeply submerged in her intricate work that she didn't notice Troy's presence until he placed his hand on the back of her swivel chair and spun her around to face him.

She jumped slightly at the surprise but her tension eased as soon as she realised who she was looking at. "Hey." She greeted, looking up at his semi-silhouette. She took his hand and tugged it downwards so he bent at the hips and bowed into the light. He looked slightly different; his skin somewhat paler then usual, and she was certain that his eyes were a dimmer shade of blue. She was going to mention this but he spoke before she could and she put her worries down to the lighting in the room.

"You're tense." He said slowly. His gazed pored over her with both concern and something else.

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah," She sighed. "It's just so much work, you know. And I can't figure out where I'm going wrong." She added sadly. "It should work."

She'd barely gotten the final word out before he quickly and impulsively kissed her on the lips and then pulled away. With an awkward and confused half-smile, she tilted her head to the side inquisitively.

"What was that for?" She asked, pleasantly surprised.

Troy shrugged as if the action had not been planned. Then, as quickly as he had before, he pressed his lips to hers again, this time not pulling away. He placed one hand on the back of her head and the other on the back of her neck and used them to push her closer to him. She melted into his touch, having longed for this for longer than he could imagine. Her arms snaked around his neck and she held him where he was as their tongues danced around their lips.

His tender touch intensified as he grasped her almost desperately. She shut her now throbbing mouth to signal to Troy that, as much as she was enjoying this- and she _really _was- she needed a brief break for air. Troy was accustomed to this sign to stop. However, his actions did not cease. If anything, he simply kissed her harder.

Thinking he must not have realised that she was no longer enjoying herself, Gabriella released her arms from around him and gently attempted to pull away. Their lips were detached for only a moment before Troy had pounced back onto her. Growing uncomfortable and frustrated at his incompliance, Gabriella placed both of her hands on his chest and began to softly push him backwards. He must have known now that she wanted to stop. But rather than obey, he leaned further into her, crushing her already swollen lips into her teeth and rolling the desk chair backwards.

She had to reach her arms out to steady herself from tipping clean off the back of the chair. Her hands gripped the desk behind her on each side as she moaned wordlessly and she heard the clatter and smash of her work being knocked off the surface and onto the floor. Troy's strong hands stopped her from turning her head away, and his frighteningly rapid breathing and occasional quiet growls made her heartbeat hasten.

"Troy!" She mumbled incoherently against his face. "Stop!"

They weren't even kissing anymore. He just had his face pressed painfully to hers as his tongue lashed over her skin. Sometimes, his teeth would pinch her lips though never hard enough to draw blood.

Whimpering, she planted her hands back onto his chest and shoved him as hard as she could. He staggered backwards, releasing her head from his hands and emitting a disgruntled groan. He stood a few feet from her, panting to get his breath back and glaring at her with a look in his eyes she had never seen before.

Gabriella got to her feet with her fists clenched. She was certain he was going to come back at her and watched him closely with fear. Then, he did something completely unexpected. His tense muscles softened and the rhythm of his breathing slowly began to change back to normal.

As if returning from an out-of-body experience, Troy finally became aware of the terror evident on Gabriella's face. Terror that he had caused. What he had just done finally dawned on him. He'd scared her. He'd hurt her.

"Gabriella…" He started timidly, though completely unsure of what he was supposed to say. How do you excuse yourself from something like that?

Her bottom lip quivered. Her eyes full of tears, she hurried straight past him and out of the room. Even as she walked, he could see she was shaking.

Troy went after her to the corridor. "Gabi!" He called out. Her back to him, she began to jog lightly away without turning back. "I'm sorry." He stopped following her, unable to do anything more than watch her leave with remorse.

Standing alone in the narrow hallway, Troy looked at his feet with shame, as he tried to register the jumble of emotions in his brain. He didn't understand. He was sorry for what he'd done. But he wanted to do it again. He wanted more. But he hated himself for it.

The bite on his hand tingled beneath the bandage. A constant reminder that everything was already starting to change.

**

* * *

A/N: **Oh dear…

So there were some (hopefully) nice Chaylor and Troyella moments in there. Clearly, things are about to take a turn and I just wanted to get some loving in before… well, I think you know what's coming. I'm evil, aren't I? Pure evil.

Hugsies and thanksies for my favourite people in the world;**chaylorXtraylorlover101****, ****ChaylorBabyx3****, ****ChaylorTwilightQueen10****, ****MaxRideRox****, bex-sharpay tisdale-evans, ****HisDelilah****, ****mzwendy85****, ****2pinkstar and 7blackberry****, ****xGabriellaxBoltonx****, ****PerfectxSweetheartx**and**ILuvZacEfron**.

Oh, and don't worry, we haven't heard the last of Sharpay!

**Coming Up…**_Chad thought he had prepared himself for this. He'd known it was coming. He always knew what he would have to do about it. But now that it was real, it all seemed so daunting. Considering his best-friend as one of those creatures was something he could not quite come to terms with._

_**xX M Xx**  
_


	16. The Gun

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**15. The Gun

* * *

**

"What do you mean 'he wouldn't stop'?" Taylor asked again, staring seriously at Gabriella from where she stood at the door.

After what Troy had done, Gabriella had sought solitude in one of the many bedrooms of the house. It just so happened that it was the same bedroom that Taylor had left her hairbrush in and, upon entering to retrieve it, she had found Gabriella sobbing on the bed. Gabriella had reluctantly explained her dismay to her best-friend, something she was beginning to regret.

She sniffed and wiped the damp from her cheeks. "I shouldn't've told you, Tay." She dismissed suddenly. Taylor felt a tinge of offence. "I'm exaggerating. It was nothing."

Taylor shook her head furiously, angry at Troy and disappointed in Gabriella for playing it down. Though she could never imagine Troy doing something like this, she wasn't going to let it slide as if he hadn't. "He hurt you." She reminded Gabriella. "That's not 'nothing'."

Compliantly accepting the words that she'd tried so hard to block out, Gabriella finally came to the terms with the fact that her best-friend was right. She hung her head in an attempt to hide the tears that brimmed in her eyes but only succeeded to encourage the water from her tear ducts and send little droplets onto the bed sheet she sat on. Taylor saw this and her heart melted with sympathy. She realised that, as she often did when she had a strong opinion, she'd gotten ahead of herself and not taken the time to be sensitive and consider how Gabriella was feeling.

With remorse and difficulty, Taylor crossed the room and perched on the bed beside Gabriella. "I'm sorry, Gabi." She apologised sincerely as she wrapped an arm around Gabriella's shoulders.

Gabriella leaned into her hold. "No," she answered, burying her head in Taylor's neck. "You're right."

It was a hard thing to admit. And now that she had acknowledged it, Gabriella was unsure of where they were going to go next. She knew she had the capacity to forgive Troy. In actual fact, all she wanted to do was forgive Troy. She wanted to forget it all and move on as if it had never happened. But she also knew that it could never be that easy. Something was happening to them. Something had changed. She couldn't only hope that it would soon change back.

"We can fix this." Taylor reassured, resting her cheek on top of Gabriella's head. Her voice was certain, but in her heart she was far from confident.

In a somewhat selfish way, she was glad that Troy was the one exhibiting strange behaviour and not Chad. Of course, she'd much prefer it if neither of them had changed, but she was relieved to find that, if anything Chad had changed for the better. She felt nothing but sorrow for Gabriella as she tried to put herself in her best-friends shoes. She couldn't imagine how it felt. But at the same time, she did wonder if they _were _making a bigger deal of it than it actually was. Maybe their separation from the boys had put this idea in their heads that an eventual reunion would be flawless. Such high hopes were destined for disappointment.

"He's changed." Gabriella stated sadly.

The world she thought she was entering with Troy had been shattered. He wasn't the compassionate guy she remembered. He wasn't patient and kind and caring. He was different. Wrong.

Taylor nodded with an equal amount of woe. "We've all changed." Just, perhaps, not for the better.

* * *

Apart from the constant, threatening crackle of the fire, the lounge was completely silent. Chad sat uncomfortably upright on the same settee with Troy opposite him on the matching chaise-longue. They both stared into the entrancing, yellow flames, ignoring the multitude of judging eyes on them from the old-fashioned, painted portraits that hung on the walls around the room. Thinking hard, their faces were identical in their concentrated and solemn expressions.

Since Troy had told Chad what had happened, what he had done, neither of them had spoken. They were both trying to let the idea sink in that Troy was transforming. It was an unbearable thought.

Chad thought he had prepared himself for this. He'd known it was coming. He always knew what he would have to do about it. But now that it was real, it all seemed so daunting. Considering his best-friend as one of those creatures was something he could not quite come to terms with.

Troy couldn't beat the guilt that was gnawing away at his insides. He would never hurt Gabriella. But he had. And he knew that it was only going to get worse. There was only one way he could stop this.

He got to his feet so suddenly that Chad jumped slightly in his seat. For a brief moment, there was genuine fear in Chad's eyes as he expected his best-friend to pounce at him. It was only a momentary reflex, but Troy saw it. And it only enforced his confidence in what he was about to do.

Chad watched in silence as Troy walked out of the room. His initial thought was that his best friend was seeking some time alone, unable to remain in such judgemental company. Because, no matter how he tried not to, Chad was assessing Troy. Almost condemning him. In his mind, he was going over how wrong what he'd done had been. Forcing Gabriella to a point that she literally had to flee from him. Of course, he couldn't control it. Or so he said. But he seemed to be fully in control now. Chad struggled to believe that the infection would come and go in waves like that. And _if _Troy was telling the truth about these bouts of uncontrollable behaviour- and Chad was sadly beginning to doubt these claims- then surely he could return to the room any second, partially and momentarily transformed, to unconsciously inflict all sorts of pain on Chad.

Troy returned to the room. Chad tensed and looked closely at his friend to assess his condition. He was standing up straight, breathing normally and there was only a slight hint of hunger in his eyes. Chad's gaze fell to Troy's hands which hung at his sides. He was holding a gun.

Sharpay had left it behind. Now, it had a purpose. Chad knew immediately what Troy was doing. He stood from his seat, not registering the pain that pulsed through his midsection. He stayed silent until Troy stopped walking and stood right in front of him.

Without words Troy took Chad's hand in his, prised his fingers open and placed the gun in his palm. It was heavy and clammy from Troy's sweaty hold on it. It's bulky, black shape looked professional and effective and the stiff trigger was undeniably menacing.

Still not speaking, Chad shook his head in answer to Troy's unasked request. He dropped the gun back into Troy's hand and attempted to turn away. He was stopped by Troy's grip on his wrist. It pulled his hand back up while the gun was shoved back into it.

"It's the only way." Troy spoke finally. His voice cracked almost at once. "I'm changing." He explained with regret. He glanced down to his hand which still enclosed Chad's wrist and couldn't help but notice the unusual length of his nails. "I don't know how long I have left."

A mental battle began to surge through Chad's head.

This was the only way he could protect himself, Gabriella and Taylor. If anyone was hurt, it would be Chad's fault for not taking this opportunity.

But why couldn't Troy do it himself? Was he too afraid? Or did he not trust himself?

They could find a cure. If they held on long enough, they could figure out a way to fix this. Troy didn't have to die.

Chad looked from the gun to his friend. Troy's eyes were more grey than blue now. His skin was close to white. His teeth chattered hungrily. He was barely the same boy.

And it dawned on Chad that, by tomorrow, he wouldn't be the same boy. He wouldn't be Troy. He'd be a killer. And by then it would be too late.

Hand trembling, Chad raised the gun. He rested the barrel on Troy's temple. He shut his eyes to make Troy's vulnerable face disappear from sight.

Troy's heart raced. He was glad he'd found Gabriella before having to die. He felt sorry that she'd have to say goodbye to him. He wondered if he'd go to heaven. He felt sorry for leaving on such a bad note. He wondered if there_ was_ a heaven. He felt sorry for Chad, who he knew would never forgive himself for this. He wondered if he'd feel the bullet tearing through his brain.

It was a strange and excruciating feeling, the waiting. Knowing that he was going to die and just standing there ready for it. He'd never been one to give up, always thought he'd hold on to life for as long as he could. But now all he wanted was for Chad to hurry up and pull the trigger.

Chad's stomach did somersaults. Bile rose in his throat as his heart threatened to explode. He was dizzy from his spinning thoughts. His head was pounding. His ears were ringing. His entire body shook. No matter how many unsteady breaths he took, he would never be ready for this. He gulped down the vomit that sat at the back of his mouth. He squeezed the tears from his closed eyes. His sweaty hand tightened around the gun. His finger gingerly hovered over the trigger. He counted down in his head.

_3…_

Troy clenched his fists, digging his sharp nails into his palms.

_2…_

Chad clicked the security off the gun, just like they did in the movies.

_1…_

A tortured wail escaped Chad before he sent the gun hurtling across the room. It shattered an antique vase with a deafening crash and rattled to the floor before the room was left in silence once again.

Breathing deeply, he stared into Troy's vacant eyes. His entire body shivered so intensely that it seemed he was wracked by a constant tremor. "Don't…" He said quietly, his voice quivering through his clenched teeth. "Don't _ever _do that to me again." He blinked the tears from his eyes. "_Never _ask me to do something like that."

He turned his back on Troy and stormed lividly out of the room. For the second time that day, Troy could do nothing but watch as one of his best-friends fled from him. He stood where he was, listening to the sound of Chad retreating, slamming doors behind him.

Then, he crossed the room and picked up the discarded gun. He'd have to finish things himself.

**

* * *

A/N: **I really didn't like that chapter. It's terribly written I think but necessary for the story's progression so I had to upload it anyway. Sorry there was only a brief bit of Gabriella and Taylor-ness and sorry Troy and Chad were so… boo. Sorry there was no Sharpay. I promise she'll be the focus of the next chapter but, as you'll see from the preview, things are not running too smoothly for our blonde friend. Uh-oh!

**Coming up;** _The road was gone. In its place was nothing more than a sea of abandoned cars which stretched as far as she could see in a messy, crammed line. Dirty and motionless, the vehicles had evidently been there for a very long time. Some had their doors open. Some were even tipped onto their sides. Many were touching each other. They created an impermeable barrier from the rest of the road. Vegas was starting to seem a very long way away._

Thanks reviewers and everyone who added me to alerts. Don't forget to drop a line on your way out!

_**xX M Xx**_


	17. The Journey

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**16. The Journey

* * *

**

"Are we there yet?"

Sharpay fought the urge to scream.

How many times had she heard that question now? It was hers and Henry's second day on the road since leaving their home behind in search of a survivor's camp in Vegas. So far, all had gone without a hitch but due to some navigation issues they were way behind on schedule. They had run out of food a few hours ago, finishing off the last of their honey sandwiches and, since then, Sharpay had not been able to shake the sense of dread that hung about her. She wasn't sure anymore how far they were from Nevada or even if there would be anything waiting for them when they got there. What if this had all been a mistake? They should have stayed where they were. Where they knew. She hadn't just put her own life on the line, a small child depended on the success of her risky decision. And if it failed, she knew she'd never recover from the regret.

"Are we there?" Henry asked again, stretching out the final word into a long, whiny moan.

Sharpay looked at him with an annoyed frown. "Stop it, Henry." She said seriously. There was too much on her mind for her to deal with his tedious childishness. He usually knew her limits, and was generally well behaved and mature, but he _was _a child. He had his moments. And today was just going to be one of those days.

"I just wanna know if we're there." He pouted, gazing out of the window at the vast, never-ending desert that surrounded them. "I'm bored." And, with that, he clambered forward from the backseat into the passenger seat beside Sharpay. He stared at her for a moment but, when she didn't return his gaze, he sighed with exaggerated exasperation and turned his attention elsewhere. "And I'm hungry."

Swinging his feet and fidgeting with the empty wrappers that littered the dashboard, Henry began to whistle and hum a tuneless song. He was unaware of how irritating it was until Sharpay could hold an angry outburst back no longer.

"Would you just stop that!" She snapped. She couldn't help it. Although she knew he didn't mean to get on her nerves, there were so many little things grating at her mind that she couldn't control herself. Her brother was dead and, as much as she wanted to hate and blame Taylor and Gabriella, she couldn't help but empathise. She was empathising with her twin's killer, and she couldn't understand it. She couldn't understand anything that was going on in her head. And then there was the kid she had to take care of, there was no certainty where their future was concerned. The rest of her life was a complete unpredictable mystery and with so much responsibility on her shoulders, so suddenly--… She snapped.

Henry whimpered and looked at her with eyes so wide and shiny that Sharpay felt she might cry at any second if she didn't see him smile. "I'm sorry, honey." She soothed, taking one hand off the steering wheel to give him a light pat on the head. Her heart jumped with repentance as he shied away from her touch. "It's just-…" She tried to explain but couldn't put the thoughts that she barely understood into a way that a five–year-old would be able to grasp. "I-…" Stammering, she tried to keep her attention on him whilst simultaneously stopping the car from veering out of the only empty lane on the highway.

Henry's bottom lip quivered. He was looking at Sharpay with such pain in his young eyes and a questioning expression on his face. As if he didn't know her. A tear balanced precariously on the lashes of his lower eyelid. One more blink and it would spill down his cheek.

"Please don't-." Sharpay began, not sure if she'd be able to cope with seeing the child cry and not be set off herself. She scolded herself for letting this happen. Obviously, she had her issues to deal with, she'd had her fair share of trouble, but there was no need to make the boy suffer. He depended on her. And she had thrown that in his face. She wondered if she even deserved his forgiveness for that.

Sniffing the liquid that was running from his nose into his mouth, Henry continued to stare at Sharpay. "I wanna go home." He told her sadly. He didn't bother to wipe the tears that were flowing from both of his eyes.

"I know, baby." Sharpay whispered, gulping down the lump in her throat. She glanced at the road for a second before laying a hand on one of Henry's cheeks. "It's okay." She lied, attempting to dab at his tears.

"No!" Henry tore away from her. He pushed his back against the passenger side door so that he was far enough from Sharpay to be just out of reach.

This was the first time Sharpay had ever seen him angry. His chubby cheeks were going red and his lips were squeezed together into a tight scowl. His nostrils flared and eyebrows were bent into a hard frown.

"I want my mommy!" He yelled, his tiny hands forming fists.

Sharpay tried to calm him, but she'd never had to deal with a temperamental child. It made her appreciate all times her parents had dealt with her tantrums. "It's okay, Hershey." She said again, unsure of what else she could possibly do. "I'm here." Although she knew that wasn't enough.

"You're not my mommy!" Henry shrieked exactly what she'd been thinking. He tucked his knees to his chest and began to stomp his socked feet on the seat beneath him. "I want my mommy!" He wrapped his arms around himself, stopped stomping and finally tore his blameful gaze from Sharpay to bury his face in his knees. His back shook as he sobbed quietly with the occasional babbled 'I miss her' and sniff.

A teardrop hit Sharpay's lap and she realised she was crying. She'd always known Henry was upset by his mother's death- who wouldn't be- but she'd also presumed that he was too young to fully understand. Too young to experience real grief, to hurt like she did. Clearly, she'd been wrong. He'd been suffering for so long. Without her support. Slowly and silently falling apart without a mother to put him back together again.

"I miss her too." Sharpay admitted, though her voice cracked from emotional strain. "I miss her too."

Henry emerged from where his head had been deeply lodged into his knees and shot Sharpay the most hateful glare she'd ever seen. "She wasn't _your _mommy!" He bit accusingly with a how-dare-you tone in his voice. "She got sad when _you _came. _You_ made her go away."

Unsure if she could take much more before suffering a mental-breakdown, Sharpay tried to stop him. "Henry." She tried to keep her voice as hard as possible but it came out as little more than a hurt whisper.

"_You_ did it!" He continued, pointing a trembling finger at Sharpay.

It hurt her, but Sharpay understood. His young mind needed a reason for his mother to have been gone. He needed someone to blame. And deep down, he blamed himself. For not being a good enough son. For not making her want to stay. Maybe if he didn't argue with her when she told him to tidy his room. Or maybe if he'd eaten all his vegetables. Maybe then she wouldn't have wanted to get away from him. All he could do to partially relieve himself of such unbearable thoughts, to temporarily push them to the back of his mind, was find another person to blame. A scapegoat. Sharpay was his scapegoat.

And then it dawned on Sharpay. Taylor and Gabriella were_ her_ scapegoats. She couldn't quite bring herself to hate them, because she knew she was only blaming them as an outlet of her own pent up regret. If she hadn't sent Ryan to get her punch, he wouldn't have ended up how he did. If she'd just respected him more, paid more attention to him when he said that going to the prom wasn't such a great idea because of that mystery illness, he would never have died. Taylor and Gabriella had done what they had to do to survive. Just like how Sharpay taking Henry to Vegas, although dangerous, was necessary for their futures. Even if the boy didn't understand it yet.

"It's your fault!"

"Henry, please." She tried to calm him. She just needed to concentrate for a minute. But with his shrill voice and his tears and the snivelling and the blame, her mind was in overload. The road was the last thing in her thoughts.

Henry shook his head from left to right, denying her unspoken request to be heard. "You took my mommy from me!" He screamed. "_I hate you!!_"

The car jolted to a violent stop as the front bumper collided with something. There was a deafening crash sound as the metal front of their SUV caved partially into itself from the sheer force of the collision. Sharpay's upper-body lurched forward, the seatbelt not restraining her head from bashing into the steering wheel. The airbag did not deploy. Quick with reflexes, Henry braced himself against the door of the car with both arms out to clasp at the dashboard and grip the chair he sat on. He screamed for no more than a second. Then, silence.

Sharpay groaned as she opened her eyes. Her head felt like it weighed a ton as she slowly lifted it from where it lay on the steering wheel. Her hand went to her temple where she could already feel a bruise forming. A throb repeated itself, sending the same pulses of pain through her brain over and over again. She looked to her left where Henry gazed back at her, mouth agape with pure horror. His entire body was tense as he panted to get his breath back.

"You okay, little man?" She asked him, her voice hoarse. He nodded unsteadily and seemed to relax a little but couldn't quite shake the panic from his bones. The collision had sent flashbacks through his memory of the night he had first met Sharpay. Memories that his undeveloped mind had tried hard to repress.

Confident that Henry would soon be back to normal, Sharpay turned her attention to the road ahead. It didn't take much searching to find out what they'd crashed into. "What is this…?" She whispered to herself, gazing out of the partially shattered windscreen at the breathtaking view ahead of her.

The road was gone. In its place was nothing more than a sea of abandoned cars which stretched as far as she could see in a messy, crammed line. Dirty and motionless, the vehicles had evidently been there for a very long time. Some had their doors open. Some were even tipped onto their sides. Many were touching each other. They created an impermeable barrier from the rest of the road. Vegas was starting to seem a very long way away.

Sharpay needed a closer look. She needed to see if there was any way around it without having to suffer the unreliable terrain of off-roading. Giving Henry a reassuring wink, she opened her door and stepped out of the car. Her aching head swam for a moment and she had to hold the car to stop herself from swaying. Henry followed her lead and hopped out of his side of the car.

Although it was an obvious setback in their trip, the break was exactly what they needed. Sharpay allowed Henry to explore, stretch his legs and clear his thoughts. Meanwhile, she could come with a plan of action.

"Don't go too far!" She called after him as he bounded excitedly through the maze of dead cars. Funny how at a young age, ones emotions can change so suddenly.

Hoisting herself onto the bonnet of a flashy, red sports car and laying back on its windscreen, Sharpay let herself catch the sun, bathing in its rays for the first time in a long time. She tucked her hands behind her head, shut her eyes and began to think.

They couldn't turn back now. But to get to Vegas, they'd either have to walk- which was unthinkable- or take a treacherous shortcut across the desert. One advantage was that, this far out into the middle of nowhere, there was little danger of being found by a zombie. Little danger. But no certainty.

Sharpay sat up, suddenly wanting to be with Henry. She didn't like the thought of him wandering alone. She'd let her guard down. She shouldn't have let him go off like that. Who knew what lurked in this vehicular graveyard. Sliding off the car, she peered around in search of him. A window glinted not far from where she stood as the door of a car opened and reflected the sun. Sharpay went to it, calling Henry's name.

Almost there in an instant, she found herself at a dead end at a line of cars squeezed tightly together, cutting her path. As she climbed over the bonnets, her gaze fell onto the car to her right and she stopped mid-crawl at what she saw. Inside the car sat a family of four. A mother, a father and their two young-ish daughters. All dead.

Their eyes were open as they stared ahead, looking untouched. Just frozen. There were no marks on them. No sign of foul play. Their bodies sat stiffly upright. The man even had his hands gripping the steering wheel. But their eyes were vacant, their faces pale. How long had they been there? For surely, in such heat, decomposition would have to take place very quickly. Their car showed signs of being there for months. But the people were pristine. As if they had died mere moments before. As if a touch of their skin would find it still warm.

Sharpay didn't want to ponder the mystery. With new found urgency, she turned back to the task at hand and continued her quest to find Henry. It didn't take long.

Apparently, he had seen the bodies too. He stood with his back pressed up against a van opposite the family car, frozen with terror as he gazed at the open backdoor. He was trembling so forcefully that Sharpay wondered how he was still standing. Poor kid. It was about time they got back to their SUV.

"Henry?" She slowly began to approach him. He did not look at her, not tearing his sight from whatever had gripped his attention behind the open door of the car. Sharpay couldn't see it from her angle, but she was certain it was probably the blindly gazing eyes of one of the girls.

Taking another step towards him, Sharpay spoke again. "Hen-…" She could have sworn, amidst his trembling, he was lightly shaking his head. Almost like he didn't want her to come to him. "Henry, what are you doing?" She tried and failed to hide the fear in her tone.

She was close enough now to hear his faint whimpering. But that wasn't all she heard. Snarling. A low, deep, continuous growl. It was coming from behind the open backdoor of the family car.

It sounded too animal to be a zombie. But Sharpay knew that all animals had died a long time ago. "What is it, Hen'?" She whispered.

He gulped before replying. "A dog…" His voice was so unnervingly brittle with fear that Sharpay felt her heart stop momentarily. A dog. Impossible. But from the sound of it, becoming increasingly louder, an unhappy dog at that.

Sharpay took another step forward. She could almost reach him. Just a few more steps. But then what? Any sudden movements and the dog could pounce. And what if it was infected? The virus was rabies after all. It had originated in animals.

"I'm scared." Henry spoke almost inaudibly. Sweat trickled down his brow. He chewed at his bottom lip and refused to blink as his eyes stayed locked with the ferociously glaring animal in front of him.

Edging closer still, Sharpay kept her voice as calm and soothing as she could. "I know, honey." She said with another step forward. Her hand reached out and she placed it on Henry's shoulder. "Just get behind me." She told him, gently and gradually edging him behind her. He yelped quietly, unable to hold it back due to his heightening fear. "You're okay." Sharpay assured him.

She was fully in front of him now, her body was his human shield. If the dog wanted him, it would have to get through her. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"Now," She continued gently. "When I say so, I want you to run." She prayed this would go to plan. "D'you hear me?" Henry said nothing, his voice trapped behind layers of fright. "When I tell you, you run and don't look back."

Sharpay stared into the hateful eyes of the creature she faced. The dog was slim, its ribs close to poking through its flesh. Its eyes were manic and teeth sharp and blood-stained. It lay on the floor of the car by the feet of the dead girls, in a position that said ready-to-pounce. Its ragged breathing was getting faster. It was getting angrier. And it was only a matter of time before--.

"Go!" Sharpay yelled, turning and giving Henry a shove in the direction of their car. "Run!"

They sprinted. And not far behind them was the grunting and pitter-patter of the dogs equally as speedy feet in pursuit. Sharpay had Henry's hand in hers as she practically dragged him at her side. The dog was right on their tails. His clawed paws would occasionally catch the heels of Sharpay's inappropriate footwear.

And there it was. Their shiny SUV. Calling them. Cheering them on. Telling them that safety was only a few steps away. The doors were still open. It was ready.

Sharpay pulled on Henry's arm so that he was in front of her. He was wheezing as his little legs tried to keep going. And in a final burst of desperation, Sharpay lifted him from under the armpits and carried him right to the passenger door. She dropped him into the seat. Without a word, he ducked into the back. The door shut behind him.

But when he looked up, Sharpay was not there.

Clambering desperately to the nearest window, he pressed his face and hands to the glass and peered out in search of her.

Face-down on the scorching tarmac, Sharpay took the briefest of moments to scold herself for not learning the first time that heels were not good when being chased. Like in her run-in with the Savage at the hospital, she had lost her footing and toppled straight down like a load of bricks. The dog was on her in a second.

She should have been relieved, but was in too much pain to notice, that he didn't use his teeth at first. No, to start, he clawed at the flesh of her ankle with his dirty paws, instantly breaking through the skin. It felt to Sharpay as if her foot was being gnawed off and, unable to see what was going on, she could only imagine that that was what was happening.

Each scratch was like a million knife blades working across her ankle. And the pain was not restricted to just that area. Her entire leg felt it. What hurt the most was that the dog was just toying with her. He was scratching at her like a cat would to a scratching post. Enjoying the suffering of his catch in preparation for the meal she would soon become.

Sharpay's vision was already beginning to blur. Her mind was shutting down to shield her from the agony. And she was grateful for the impending unconsciousness. She just wanted it to be over. She could feel her own blood trickling between her toes. The sooner she was dead, she thought, the better.

But then she heard it. She heard _him. _Henry. Screaming from inside the car. Banging on the window with his podgy fists. And she knew she couldn't give up. If she died here, he'd be left with no-one. Her death would result in his. And couldn't have that. She couldn't have him watch her die.

Not to mention that this dog was _really _pissing her off. No-one ruins a perfect pair of Carvela heels and gets away with it.

Rolling onto her back, Sharpay pulled her legs away from the doomed animal. Her right foot was bare, the remains of her priceless shoe discarded on the floor and in pieces between the dogs teeth. Her other shoe, however was intact. And its shiny metal heel glimmered as if indicating another use. A deadlier use. And not just a case of killer fashion.

The dog seemed momentarily fazed by its meals unexpected movement and only watched with curiosity as Sharpay removed her shoe. He decided it was about time to eat as Sharpay raised the stiletto above her head. He realised it was too late as the heel came soaring down towards him, through his thin skull and into his brain.

Henry finally allowed himself to breathe. He sank back into the car seat, leaving a smear of breath and palm sweat behind on the window, and waited in silence for Sharpay. With her eyes down, Sharpay opened the door and crawled into the seat beside Henry. She said nothing to him as she lay across the cushions resting her head by his knees and drawing her feet up by the window.

"You're bleeding!" Henry shrieked as she caught sight of Sharpay's shredded calf and ankle. From her knee down, the skin was completely doused in her own blood. It was unlike anything that the young child had ever seen but, as much as it terrified him, he couldn't quite look away.

Sharpay lifted her arm from where it draped across her eyes and glanced up at Henry. "I'm okay," she lied. Her leg was an explosion of agony. She felt sick. And weak. She could feel herself shaking and her heart was racing. At any moment, she thought, she might lose consciousness. "Don't worry." She added, seeing the obvious doubt in Henry's eyes. She didn't want to cause him any more grief than he'd already suffered over the last few months. "It's nothing."

Henry bit his lip. His small, trembling hands slowly made their way towards Sharpay's face before resting on the top of her head. He began to gently and clumsily stroke her hair, weaving the blonde locks between his podgy fingers and trying to silently reassure himself that Sharpay was telling the truth.

But she was all pale. Like one of the zombies. Her eyes were shut but it didn't look like she was sleeping. It looked like she would never wake up.

"I didn't mean it." Henry spluttered, trying not to choke on his impending tears.

Sharpay didn't open her eyes. Her eyelids were too heavy and sore. But his random statement confused her already jumbled mind and she had to ask; "What?"

"I don't hate you." His timid, shaken voice replied. He swept Sharpay's fringe away from her sweaty brow to better reveal her pallid face. "I didn't mean-."

"I know, Hen'." Sharpay sighed. She barely heard her own voice and wondered if she'd spoken at all. In the back of her mind, she thought she could hear Henry still talking, but it seemed so distant that she wondered if it was just a figure of her imagination.

Henry was sobbing. His tears were falling from his eyes onto Sharpay's skin, blending in with the salt water of her sweat. She didn't flinch as one of the droplets dropped onto her bottom lip and ran into her mouth. Her lack of response to Henry's pleas for reply only made the child cry harder.

He took her by the shoulders and shook her, bawling and screaming her name. Her eyes stayed shut and her body heavy and limp. But just as Henry gave up trying to jolt her awake, something happened to give him a tiny ounce of hope. A small reassurance that she wasn't dead. Not yet.

Sharpay's chapped lips parted ever so slightly and a whisper that was almost impossible to hear escaped her. "I love you…" She breathed with difficulty. "Little bro'."

**

* * *

A/N: **That was… intense. Sorry guys! She's NOT DEAD though. I assure you of that.

Thanks a lot to **chaylorXtraylorlover101, bex-sharpay tisdale-evans, sd freek, 2pinkstar and 7blackberry, general wildcat, ILuvZacEfron, MaxRideRox, ChaylorTwilightQueen10, NanoLuvsYouAll, mzwendy85 **and** HisDelilah** for your encouraging reviews!

Lot's of people were wondering when Gabriella and Taylor would find out about Troy's predicatment. Well, here's your answer;

**Coming Up;** _Of all the things she had prepared herself for, all the things she had expected, this scenario had never entered her mind. Everything else had a solution. Everything else was reversible. But not this. Of all the things, not this. As the news sunk in, Gabriella's world began to fall apart in small__ chunks._

Thanks ever so much for reading!

_**xX M Xx**_


	18. The Truth

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**17. The Truth

* * *

**

Red, white and gold. Gabriella called this room the Wildcat Room. Its colour scheme reminded her of East High.

It was yet another bedroom and probably the grandest of them all. The walls were papered with a striking, red pattern with white detail. The large double bed had clean, white sheets and bold, scarlet cushions. The wood of the bedstead was painted gold and had great pillars that stretched to the ceiling. An entire wall was taken up by a vast, gold, walk-in wardrobe with a countless number of drawers and doors. A calming, dim light shone through the thin curtains which hung at the bay window and cast a yellow shadow on the white floor.

This was where Gabriella came to get away from it all. Taylor had her library. She had the Wildcat Room. It was perfect to get lost in; either lying on the luxurious bed or gazing at the unbelievable view from the window. There was just a welcoming atmosphere that would hit you as soon as you stepped through the door. It was the perfect place to be alone. However, as Gabriella entered, it became apparent that someone else had had the same idea.

Chad sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. His shoulders were so tense that they almost touched his ears and his tight grip on the bed sheets crumpled the entire white cover. There was clearly a lot on his mind and Gabriella considered walking away and leaving him to his thoughts, seeing as he didn't seem to have noticed her arrival anyway, but then she realised that this was the perfect opportunity to get the answers she so desperately needed regarding Troy.

She opened her mouth to speak but her thoughts were too fast for her and another thing came into consideration. Chad was in her hide-out. _Hiding_. He'd clearly come here to get away from something. And Gabriella would bet any money that the something was Troy. Her curiosity only grew. As did her hesitance to talk. She stayed by the door and cleared her throat.

"Did you speak to Troy?" She asked quietly, not wanting to shock him.

Surprisingly, he didn't seem at all bothered by her presence, though maybe it was just that his shoulders couldn't get any higher. He slowly nodded his head but did not turn around.

Gabriella hadn't expected to be so bluntly snubbed and was even more deterred. "Oh-…" She stammered, unsure of why she was becoming so nervous. Something about Chad was bothering her. And he'd changed the atmosphere in the room from calming to the complete opposite. She decided to get out of there and find another place to camp. "Well, I'll just-…I'll leave you to-."

"No," he said unexpectedly. Gabriella thought that she might have imagined it until he turned around partially to face her. "No," he repeated. "It's okay." He softened, regretting giving Gabriella a cold-shoulder that she didn't deserve. "You can stay."

This invitation somewhat relaxed Gabriella and she stepped carefully into the room. Walking around the bed, she noticed that Chad's gaze remained anywhere but her. She sat close beside him on the edge of the bed and waited.

She wanted him to speak first because she already felt as though she was intruding. After a long stretch of silence though, she realised he had no intention to make conversation and glanced at him expectantly. It was the first time she had looked at his face properly since entering and she couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by his appearance. The skin around his bloodshot eyes was red and damp and his cheeks glistened with a thin sheen of tears. Gabriella had never seen Chad cry. She'd never thought him the type to submit to a display of emotions that he'd probably consider weak. But there was evidence, plain and obvious, that he had shed some tears. And she knew that it must have been something awful. And she knew that it was about Troy.

"Have you been crying?" She asked before thinking. Although she already knew the answer, she hoped he would elaborate as to why. She needed to know what was happening with her boyfriend and she knew Chad had the answers.

He sniffed and turned away. "No." He lied, knowing it was a pathetically obvious denial but not yet ready to admit to his weaker side. "Just-…" And for a moment he considered telling her everything. "Something in my eye." He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve.

Gabriella considered asking more questions. But as desperate as she was to know about Troy, she wasn't going to push the subject at the expense of Chad's faltering and fragile emotions. The poor boy was going through enough; he'd been shot, there was something wrong with his best-friend and his girlfriend was bruised and scratched and close to broken. So, rather than delve further into the matter, she attempted to change the subject to take both their minds off it.

"Of all the rooms in the house," She began with a forced smile. "We just happened to pick the same hiding place…."

She continued, though Chad wasn't listening. He'd never been good at keeping secrets. And there was something so huge that he was hiding from Gabriella, he couldn't stand to sit so close to her and keep it locked up. The truth that only he knew was swirling around in his head, begging to be shared. And the more Gabriella spoke, the more comfortable she became in his presence and the closer they got, the more the barriers of his willpower began to break down. And eventually, he just couldn't stop himself.

"Troy's been bitten." He blurted out, stopping Gabriella mid-sentence. He mentally chided himself for letting it slip and for the blunt way in which he did it. But at the same time, nothing could stop the relief that lifted the biggest weight from his shoulders. He could only bask in the sudden flourish of freedom for a moment before he realised the effect his words were going to have on Gabriella.

She looked at him though he still could not meet her eye. "Wh-what?" Her words came out in a breathless and disbelieving, high-pitched voice. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, all the things she had expected, this scenario had never entered her mind. Everything else had a solution. Everything else was reversible. But not this. Of all the things, not this. As the news sunk in, Gabriella's world began to fall apart in small chunks.

"That's why he wouldn't stop." Chad explained, allowing a miserable chuckle before recalling the shocking words that Troy had used in defence for his actions. "He was hungry."

Gabriella was shaking her head as if her denial of the truth would make it a lie. She tried as hard as she could to not allow the words to sink in. As long as she didn't accept it, it wouldn't be real.

Chad put his hand on her back and began to rub up and down supportively. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

She stood, knocking away his hand, and walked wordlessly out of the door, leaving Chad alone in the Wildcat Room once more.

Unsure of where she was going, perhaps in search of another hiding place, Gabriella travelled through the house in a slow, daze-like walk. When she got to the backdoor of the house, which led to the acres of gated land, her hands unlocked and opened it on autopilot. Her thoughts did not protest.

Night was falling on yet another eventful day and the late evening air was cool and refreshing. The grass was wet with dew under her bare feet and its soft blades tickled between her toes. Normally, a time like this would be accompanied by chirping birdsong, but all the animals were dead. By the time Gabriella had reached the stables, goosebumps had formed on her skin from the developing cold. She decided to enter the decrepit, wooden building to shield herself from the light breeze.

There was little light inside, but she spotted him right away. Amongst the hay and wood, Troy sat alone in the centre of the floor on an overturned, metal bucket. His left hand lay on his lap, the bandage unravelled and discarded beside him on the ground. In his other hand was a gun. The barrel of it was in his mouth. And his finger was on the trigger.

The regular beats of Gabriella's heart stopped completely for a split second. "Troy?" Her voice was close to inaudible as she had the hopeful belief that this was just a creation of her imagination.

Troy's dead eyes snapped to life and he looked up at her. Almost reluctantly, he slowly pulled the gun out of his mouth. The purpose of him doing so was not to rid himself of the danger but only to be able to speak. "You shouldn't be here." He told her dismally. His gaze remained on her accusingly as if he expected her to just turn around and leave.

She did the opposite. Taking unhurried and deliberate steps, she walked timidly towards him. "What are you doing?" She asked the obvious, desperate for another explanation. Though what other reason could there be. He was killing himself. He was ending his own life, alone in the stable. "You can't-…" She wondered what would have happened if she'd never gone for a walk this evening. Who would have found his body? "Why would you-…?"

"Leave, Gabriella." He demanded bluntly. He sat completely still, showing her that he had no intention to change his plans. "You don't want to see this."

He'd been 'in the zone'. She had no idea how much courage it had taken for him to go out there and stick the gun in his mouth. He had been so close to pulling the trigger. So close. A matter of seconds away. And now he knew he'd need another while of self-assuring.

Gabriella was taken aback by his careless determination. "See what?" She asked, taking her final steps towards him. "You can't do this." She crouched in front of him so they were at the same eye level and he finally tore away from her gaze. "I won't let you."

With that, she grabbed the gun and attempted to prise it from his hands. She was wrenching his arms this way and that, swinging the fragile barrel in every direction. Her nails dug into his skin as she yanked and he yanked back in this deadly game of tug-o-war.

"Get off, Gabi." He ordered. "Stop." He spoke between exasperated pants and forceful pulls. "I have to." His grip began to weaken as his mind and body started to surrender. "I don't want to hurt you." Was his final plea as he stopped struggling. "I have to." He said again.

All was suddenly still. Gabriella lifted the weapon from his open hand and threw it into a pile of hay. Troy looked at her and began to cry as all the pent up emotions, the secrets and the lies came crushing down on him as soon as the shield of adrenaline was gone. He hunched over on the bucket he sat on, sobbing and babbling incoherent words of apology. And although his tearful speech made little sense, Gabriella understood completely. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

"I love you." She told him. She pulled out of the embrace so she could look him straight in the eye and, when he tried to look away, she took his head in both hands and held it right in front of hers. "And I will _always_ love you, Troy Bolton."

Too much had happened in the space of forty-eight hours for any of them to register real emotions. Their minds were exhausted, so all their thoughts were unreliable and jumbled. However, one thing was certain at that moment. Troy knew that he had the support he needed to go on. Gabriella knew that she was never going to allow Troy to give up.

She pressed her forehead to his and shut her eyes. "We can find another way." She promised. "We'll find another way."

**

* * *

A/N: **The most thankful of thanks to the wonderful people who reviewed; **ILuvZacEfron****, ****HisDelilah****, bex-sharpay tisdale-evans, pumpkinking5, ****chaylorXtraylorlover101****, ****mzwendy85** and**MaxRideRox****. **You guys are preview is for y'all!

**Coming Up;** _Troy awoke from his twelve-hour sleep, feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. His mind was in a constant state of unbearable buzz as his brain futilely demanded him to fill the bottomless pit that was his stomach. He could smell them. His friends. He could smell the ripe, juicy meat that clung to their bones, begging to be devoured. If he could only quench this agonizing hunger…_

Oh, and a warning, we're nearing the end of the story. Hope you guys enjoy the conclusion.

_**xX M Xx**_


	19. The Deterioration

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**18. The Deterioration

* * *

**

It was morning and Chad, the only one awake, was in the kitchen. He was busy preparing what he liked to think of as 'a feast fit for royalty' but the lack of resources made it frustratingly difficult. He boiled the water for the coffee in the ever-roaring fireplace and used far too many spoonfuls of sugar to cover up the taste of the powdered milk. The chocolate sauce smelled wrong so he settled for covering the fireplace-fried pancakes with unusually thick syrup. Everything else on the menu had to be forgotten due to the fact that there simply was none of it in the house. However, he refused to serve the breakfast as it stood looking so bland. A light bulb lit up in his head and he dashed out into the backyard. Re-entering the kitchen, he filled a glass with water and placed the handful of daisies into it. Then, he put the whole lot- a plate of overcooked pancakes smothered in syrup, a watery, luke-warm mug of coffee and an overflowing glass of wilted flowers- all onto a tray and he set off upstairs.

Halfway down the second-floor corridor, he crossed paths with Gabriella. Her hair was a mess and she was rubbing her eyes, taking just-woken-up shuffled steps towards him.

"Morning." He greeted cheerfully.

She nodded and yawned in reply. Then, catching sight of the tray in his hands, she smiled. "That's sweet." She said, stopping in front of him.

Chad felt a tinge of guilt for not preparing anything for anyone else. "I would have made some for you-."

Gabriella shook her head. "It's cool." She assured him. "I was just on my way to fix up some breakfast for me and Troy."

After the night before, Gabriella had taken Troy back to the house. At his own request, he had been locked in his bedroom alone in case he was to change in the night. Gabriella had stuck her head in his room this morning to find him sleeping peacefully, still human. His drawn face worried her, so she'd made the decision to make him a hearty meal, quite like the one Chad had made, and fill him up.

"Something funny?" Chad asked, feeling somewhat self-conscious under Gabriella's amused eye.

Gabriella bit her lip to hold back a chuckle. "You've got a little…" She reached up to his face and used her thumb to wipe chocolate sauce from the tip of his nose. "And your, um…" she considered telling him that there was a lot more sauce on his face and that there was flour or some kind of white powder in his hair but then thought otherwise. "Nevermind." She dismissed with a badly suppressed smile. "Enjoy your pancakes."

She had to walk away then, simply to prevent herself from laughing in his face. A suspicious Chad watched her go before continuing on his way. He was going to Taylor's room, anxious and excited for her reaction to the breakfast-in-bed he had cooked. He was almost there when he heard a crescendo of smashes, accompanied by her scream. He nearly dropped the tray.

Sprinting to her open bedroom door, his first and only thought was that she was being attacked by Troy. He knew it would happen. He knew it wasn't safe to have him in the house. He could only hope that he'd be able to save her in time. Because another infected friend would be too much.

He burst into the room, ready to kick Troy's ass, only to find that Taylor was alone. She was sitting on the carpeted floor clutching her ankle with a rack of tiny, shattered bottles beside her. And on her face was not fear, just pain and disappointment.

"What happened?" Chad asked, breathless from running. He placed the food on a chest of drawers and crossed the room to her.

She pushed his hands away as he tried to inspect her ankle. "It's not broken." She dismissed with irritation. "So I was trying to walk on it."

Chad nodded with sympathetic understanding. He was going to tell her that she should probably stay in bed but knew it would only upset her further. He knew she hated being bedbound. She was an independent girl who was never down for long. She had things to do and wasn't going to allow a non-fatal injury to prevent her from doing them. However, sometimes she needed to know when to stop. And now was one of those times. She needed to rest before she caused herself more injury.

"I need to get back to the library." She continued with determination, already trying to get back to her feet. "I've gotta finish my work-… What are you doing?"

Taylor could do nothing as Chad slid his arms under her and scooped her up into his hold. He took no notice to the pain of his stitches close to tearing. Nor did he listen to her words of protest. He placed her gently back into bed and carried her the tray of food.

Her stubborn scowl softened. "Thank you." She said hesitantly. "But you didn't have to-." She stopped as his warm hands gently seized her ankle. He began to rub tenderly on the bruised flesh, sending a strangely soothing sensation down her entire leg.

"So, this 'work' of yours…" Chad prompted before nodding to her untouched meal to encourage her to eat it. "You think you can make a cure?" He added with doubt.

Taylor swallowed down her first mouthful of pancake, ignoring the fact that it crunched when she chewed it. "I've been working on this for months." She said to a dubious Chad. "See, scientists just didn't have time. They were overwhelmed so suddenly. But I've been reading and-."

"What good is that?" Chad interrupted more harshly than intended. He didn't appreciate false hope. He knew Taylor could achieve a lot of things but they were aiming too high now. And the higher they got, the worse the downfall would be. He refused to believe that there would ever be a cure. Just to shield himself from the disappointment.

Although she would have been grateful for his support, Taylor understood his reservation. "I know," she sighed impatiently. "But when we went to the hospital, I managed to get what I think could be the last 'ingredients' I need."

Chad looked at the shattered bottles on the floor. "You mean _that_?"

There was a moment of brief silence before Taylor said regretfully; "Some of it." Then added; "But, thankfully, most of it's already in the library." She was going to continue on the intricacies of creating medicine but Chad cut her off before she could begin.

"He's gonna end up like the rest of them no matter what we do." He stated suddenly with a dismal grimace. He glanced down at the tray of unfinished breakfast and almost laughed at himself for thinking that the preparation of a pathetic meal would take his mind off of things. He'd got up that morning thinking that today was a new day. A different day. But there was no changing what had happened. The past was irreversible. And no amount of feeble cooking or hopeless talk of cures would solve it.

Taylor opened her mouth to defend herself, the lack of support quickly becoming upsetting, but Chad spoke first.

"Your cure's more likely to kill him than save him." He finished in way of bleak conclusion to their conversation. And, with that, he stood from where he had sat on the edge of Taylor's bed, took her tray of half-eaten food and left the room.

* * *

Troy awoke from his twelve-hour sleep, feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. His mind was in a constant state of unbearable buzz as his brain futilely demanded him to fill the bottomless pit that was his stomach. He could smell them. His friends. He could smell the ripe, juicy meat that clung to their bones, begging to be devoured. If he could only quench this agonizing hunger…

"Hungry?"

He was alerted suddenly to Gabriella's presence, looking up to the sound of her jolly voice to find that she was sitting on the other side of the room and watching him avidly. At first, he had the wild thought that she might just have been reading his mind, having pinpointed in one word the single thought that ran through his brain. Then, as he shook off the final dregs of sleepiness, he began to consider more logical solutions. Gabriella wasn't a psychic. He obviously just happened to _look _as hungry as he felt, which was understandable.

"I made you some toast." She added, having received no reply. The way he was just sitting there, staring, was sadly unnerving. "I, um… made the bread… from scratch."

Troy was confused. He saw no toast. In fact, now that he thought of it, he could see nothing but Gabriella. And even she looked different. She was almost faceless. Just a shell with his girlfriend's voice. Surrounded by grey haze.

"A-are you alright?" Gabriella got to her feet and considered leaving. His dimming eyes were drowning her in their fervent gaze. She could no longer deny the fact that he was quickly changing. She even wondered if he had already made the transformation.

She moved slowly to the door as nothing more than a blurred shape. Although her feet were bare, Troy heard each step she took. He heard the material of her cardigan brushing against the t-shirt underneath as she moved. He heard her swallow the build-up of saliva in her mouth.

"Don't go." He spoke softly. His voice was calm and yet full of plea. He didn't want to be alone again. The last thing he wanted was to be left to the smells and the sounds and the non-stop thoughts of starvation. "Please… stay."

Gabriella stopped with her hand on the doorknob. As much as she hated herself for it, she felt unsafe with him. It was wrong, she knew, because love should withstand such things as that. But she had to constantly reassure herself that, as long as she kept her distance, she'd be alright.

She complied with his request and returned to where she had previously been seated. "Just," she began with disapproval. "Stop staring. Okay?"

It broke her to see him like this. It broke her to see all of them like this. They were just teenagers. Through no fault of their own, life had turned on them and now each day was a struggle. It wasn't fair. They didn't deserve it. They should have been out having fun, watching movies and loving life. Instead, they were hurt and afraid and dying. Gabriella could see it in all of them.

Chad was a master of denial but his true emotions always had the ability to shine through no matter how he tried to hide them. He thought he had to be strong for Taylor but deep down he had no clue what he was going to do or what was going to happen. He was so used to things being planned out for him, to being told what to do, this curveball had knocked him clean over. His entire world was clouded with uncertainty.

It was the same for Taylor. She put on a brave face because… well, what else could she do? A breakdown would do no good for anyone. She prided herself in her ability to solve problems and fix things. Now, she struggled to come to terms with the fact that she could do absolutely nothing as those closest to her suffered. It was that which kept her up at night. That which spurred her on to create this miracle cure that was so unlikely that even Gabriella failed to believe it could happen.

Troy was one that Gabriella couldn't quite put her finger on. Clearly, he didn't like what was happening to him. But he didn't seem to be resisting. He seemed more intent on having something happen- the change or death- than making the most of the short period of time he had left. All Gabriella wanted was to relish in the final moments with her human boyfriend before destiny changed him forever.

But life wasn't fair like that. Instead, they were hurt and afraid. And dying.

**

* * *

A/N: **What a dismal update, eh? Sorry guys. I'm gloomy, I know. Nothing really happened this chapter but I just thought it was necessary to take a break from all the action and just make it clear how people were feeling. There are two or three chapters left so don't forget to review and let me know you're still interested. Prepare for an action-packed finish!

**Next Chapter**; _The hint of worry inside both Chad and Taylor escalated into a sudden, full-blown panic. In barely a millisecond, the dregs of sleep vanished and they were on their feet. As Chad scrambled in the semi-darkness in search of a t-shirt he knew he'd discarded somewhere on the floor, Gabriella took hold of the torch and hurriedly led a limping Taylor out to the hallway._

_**xX M Xx**_


	20. The Unfinished Antidote

**Outbreak

* * *

**

**19. The Unfinished Antidote

* * *

**

"_Wake up!_"

Cold, sweaty hands gripped and shook Taylor's shoulders, instantly tearing her from sleep. She swatted the prying fingers away with a tired groan before sitting upright in bed. Beside her, within the sheets, a still sleeping Chad stirred faintly and tightened his unconscious hold around her waist.

"Quick! Wake up!"

Taylor rubbed her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the darkness of her bedroom. Her search for the source of the frantic voice was brief, cut short almost as soon as it had started, as she quickly caught sight of the silhouette in front of her. A shadowy figure that was nothing more than a person-shaped block of black with frazzled hair and a shrill and desperate voice.

"What do you…?" Taylor began, confused and half-asleep. This was not the way to be woken in the middle of the night. So much urgency. "Who…?"

"Come on, Taylor!"

And the cold, sweaty hands were back. This time on her face. A clammy palm on both of her cheeks. Once again, Taylor shooed the hands with a gentle push as her mind slowly registered what was happening.

"Gabriella?" She asked, reaching for the torch that she kept on the bedside table. At the flick of a switch, the silhouette transformed into her best friend, squinting and using her cold, sweaty hands to shield her teary eyes from the harsh light.

Chad rolled onto his back with a quiet moan. "What's going on?" He muttered drowsily. He was only just beginning the groggy transition into awareness, having been awoken by the light and voices. He was engulfed in a haze of puzzlement accompanied by a niggling fatigue and a hint of worry.

"It's Troy," Gabriella explained tearfully. "He's changing."

The hint of worry inside both Chad and Taylor escalated into a sudden full-blown panic. In barely a millisecond, the dregs of sleep vanished and they were on their feet. As Chad scrambled in the semi-darkness in search of a t-shirt he knew he'd discarded somewhere on the floor, Gabriella took hold of the torch and hurriedly led a limping Taylor out to the hallway. They sprinted wordlessly to Troy's room, halfway there being joined by Chad- who'd seemingly found the t-shirt but not bothered to find any jeans to cover his boxers.

They were out of breath once they'd reached their destination. The door was shut but not locked and no sound came from inside. Their hurry subsided into hesitance as each of them silently refused to be the one to turn the doorknob. Even Gabriella was hit with a sudden wave of fear that halted her from moving at all. And so, the three of them stood where they were surrounding Troy's bedroom door, panting to get their breath back.

Chad reached for the door's handle, then thought better of it and used his outstretched hand to knock on the wood instead. "Troy?" There was no answer so he knocked again. "Troy?" Same result and now they were wondering if he was even in there. And if he was, was he okay?

The curiosity soon became too much. With a quick and bracing lungful of air, Gabriella turned the knob and pushed open the door. It creaked as it swung slowly.

They remained in the hallway, peering through the threshold carefully. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw inside. Gabriella had left a small lamp in the room that lit it up with a dim, white glow. It made her feel safer in the dark. But now, it only illuminated her biggest fear of all.

Troy was tucked in the shadows of the far corner. He was in a continuous state of movement; his entire body quaking, each limb thrashing as if he were having a fight with an invisible foe. Or himself. He threw his head from left to right, apparently not caring when he sometimes caught his face on the wall. His strained hands were drawn into fiercely trembling claws as he scraped and scratched at the floor beneath him. His legs kicked and bucked as if he was having some kind of seizure and his chest heaved with each gasping breath he took. Worst of all though, were his eyes.

Even in the faint light of the room, his eyes were clearly visible. They were grey. Completely. As if the blue skies that had once been his eyes were now clouded. There was no black dot of a pupil. Just a blind, blank grey. And the confirmation that they all needed. He had changed. It had happened.

He growled and scraped his teeth together, sensing the presence of his company. He began to sniff the scent of fresh meat in the air and, like a creature of prey, crawled onto his hands and knees.

Gabriella spoke quietly so only Taylor could hear her. "Have you finished your antidote?" She asked slowly and cautiously never taking her eyes off what had once been her boyfriend.

Apparently, almost inaudible wasn't quiet enough and her noise was enough to spark madness in Troy. With an animal cry, he pounced forward, bounding towards the door on his hands, feet and knees. Thinking fast, Chad leaned into the room, grabbed the door handle and quickly pulled it shut, just in time to hear Troy collide with it on the other side of the wood.

The sound of his nails scraping continuously across the wood was almost unbearable but it was his whimpering cries of failure and desperation that sent Gabriella over the edge. She just couldn't believe that this had happened. She thought they'd have more time. Never came to terms with the fact that eventually….

"Your antidote." She said again, turning to Taylor. "Is it finished?"

Taylor shook her head, her movements stiff and hasty with fright. "Nearly." She said. "B-but… it's not-…. I haven't tested it." She stammered, overcome with nerves and fear for her life. "It'll kill him. I know-."

But it was their only hope. Troy's only chance. "Where is it?" Gabriella interrupted. She barely gave Taylor a chance to answer. "Where?!"

"Library." Taylor answered obediently, almost developing a dread now of this uncharacteristically forceful Gabriella. "But I told you, it-…." She trailed off, realising that nothing she said would stop her best friend. Gabriella was already sprinting to the library.

Taylor sank to the ground, grateful to take weight off her ankle which was throbbing again. She stuck her legs out in front of her and leant backwards on the wall that separated her and Troy, shutting her eyes and trying to let her thoughts catch up with the situation. She'd only woken up a second ago. And so much was going on. It was only just starting to sink in that Troy was gone. Troy was gone. One of her best friends was now nothing more than a cannibalistic creature. And he wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill all of them. Troy.

"Troy…?"

Taylor looked up to see Chad standing beside her with both of his palms and his forehead pressed to Troy's bedroom door. His fingers gently stroked the chipping paint around the knob as he stared blankly into the cracks of the wood.

"It's me Troy." Chad continued, his voice quiet and small. "It's your best-… your best friend, Chad." His bottom lip quivered but he refused to let tears flow.

Troy replied with a growl and a procession of scratches.

And as if losing Troy wasn't bad enough for Taylor, now she realised she'd have to watch as Chad came to terms with losing his closest friend. She reached up and took Chad's hand from where it hovered at the door handle. He did not turn to her but she squeezed supportively and gave his fingers a sympathetic kiss. He pulled away from her grip, ignoring her attempts completely, and used his fist to pound the door.

"Troy!" He yelled through the barrier. "Stop this, okay?" He continued to bang his hand on the door. "You can beat this!" He opened his mouth to continue his plea but was stopped short by a sound that gave him both hope and uncertainty.

Troy was knocking back. His scratching had ceased. He was banging the door, much like Chad had.

Chad glanced at Taylor who looked back at him just as perplexed. Then, he knocked a rhythm on the door. Troy responded with the exact same simple beat. Chad tried a different rhythm, which Troy met, once again with perfect repetition. He tried again and again, the beats getting increasingly complicated and difficult, but Troy never failed.

"What's… going… on?" Gabriella arrived finally, out of breath with a handful of small bottles and an empty syringe.

Taylor averted her fascinated gaze from her boyfriend and looked up at Gabriella. "Listen." She said.

Chad repeated what he and Troy had been doing for the best part of five minutes. And, as expected, Troy matched his beat flawlessly.

"What does that mean?" Gabriella asked, placing the medicine in Taylor's hands and taking a seat to get her breathing back to normal.

"He's still in there." Chad deduced. "Troy- or, at least, a bit of him- is still in there." He chuckled slightly in an outburst of relief and happiness. "There's still hope. I knew-."

He was cut off by an unexpected bang at the door. Followed by another. And another. Troy was no longer playing call-and-response, but working to his own rhythm; a disorderly beat without structure or method just frantic bashing and banging. And scratching and clawing. And growling and panting.

And _crack, _the hinges were giving way. He was breaking out.

Chad took both of Taylor's hands in his and pulled her to a standing position. "You should get out of here." He whispered.

It was too late. There was a final thud before the door collapsed from the threshold, tipping outward to clatter to the ground where Chad had stood seconds before. Troy stood still for a moment as he took in his surroundings without the aid of his non-existent eyesight. He inhaled the air through his nose in an attempt to detect any kind of scent and he strained his ears to pick up the slightest of sounds.

Having slowly and carefully gotten to her feet, Gabriella nudged Taylor with her elbow and pointed to the bottled concoction and syringe in her hands. Taylor nodded in understanding and reluctantly inserted the needle into the clear liquid, drawing every last drop of it into the injection. Now, the hard part. They had to get close enough to Troy without making a sound or being noticed at all. And things were about to get a lot harder.

Done with the small, empty medicine bottles, Taylor had decided to discard them to free her other hand and make it easier to inject Troy. Unfortunately, the uncalculated decision quickly became an issue when the slightest movement of her fingers caused the bottles to knock together in her palm. It was nothing but a quiet _clink _but it was enough to alert Troy to the location of his first victim.

He turned to her, a manic glint in his unseeing eye and his lips trembled with excitement. His first kill. First meal. His hands shot out to where he had heard the noise and he was met with a cold smooth object for just a moment before the sound of glass shattering on the ground.

Gabriella watched as Troy reached out again, snatching the air centimetres from Taylor's face. She watched as her best friend cowered from the fatal might of her boyfriend, pursing her lips to keep in the terrified thoughts that were screaming inside her. Troy took another swing. To dodge it, Taylor took a step back. Her injured ankle sent rockets of agony through her veins. And she couldn't help but cry out.

She could have sworn that Troy smiled then. She'd sealed the deal. He knew where she was. And he was pleased. His knees bent and arms drew back as he prepared himself to launch at her. He licked his lips, taking no notice of the dribble that was making trails down his chin. He flexed his fingers.

"Hey!"

Troy pivoted on one foot to turn to the new sound. He remained in his ready-for-battle position and began to detect his latest prey. More meat, he smelled. Less fear.

"Yeah," Chad continued, slowly walking backwards as he spoke. "That's right. It's me you want." He nodded to himself, pleased to have taken the attention from Taylor. There was no way he was watching her die. "Follow my voice."

With a snarl that sounded almost like a hearty chuckle, Troy gladly complied.

As he backed cautiously into the nearest room, Chad didn't know what he had planned to do. He'd sort of supposed that he'd get Troy's attention and the girls would use the opportunity to either run or administer the injection. In reality, there was time for neither of those things to happen.

Troy was air-bound almost instantly. He jumped up and spent less than a second in the air before plummeting towards Chad. There was enough momentum behind the blow to knock both boys clean across the room and the pair stumbled into the far wall. Upon collision, Troy was somehow able to keep his balance but sadly, Chad was not as lucky.

His grasping at the wallpaper was no good and he promptly toppled onto his back. He met the floor with a thud and pained groan as a flash of agony flittered down his spine. Blinking fiercely, through both tears and unsettled dust, he tried to make out his surroundings. It was dark, but the moonlight shone through the thin drapes to cast a white-blue light on Troy's daunting outline; a shape that was only still for a moment, then came soaring down towards him.

Troy's hands pressed down on Chad's collarbones, pinning him to the ground and sending those blades of fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders. All Chad could see was the glimmer of eyes and teeth as the boy on top of him salivated ravenously.

Chad let out a yelp as the nails sank further into his shoulders. "Troy!" He begged. "Please, stop!" He tried to fight, but no amount of writhing would free him. He beat Troy's arms and back with his fists and kicked his legs in every direction possible, but his attacker was unfazed. "It's me, Troy." His pleas fell on deaf ears but he didn't stop. He knew Troy was still in there. If he could just break the barrier and get through to him. "Remember?"

He may have been imagining it, perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Chad could swear he felt Troy's grip loosen. "Remember," he continued, his voice softer. "Back in kindergarten when we used to play… 'Transformers' was your favourite, right? W-when I was Optimus-Chad and you were Mega-Troy… Remember?" Chad sniffed. "Please, remember."

Troy blinked. There was a flicker of familiarity in his face before he dived, teeth-first, at Chad's exposed neck.

* * *

**A/N: **CLIFFHANGER! And you'll be pleased to know that this is the penultimate chapter!

Now, a shout out to all the special people whose reviews keep me writing! Unlimited love to; **mzwendy85**, **ILuvZacEfron**, **HisDelilah**, **chaylorXtraylorlover101****, bex-sharpay tisdale-evans** (sorry for the lack of Sharpay but she will be making an appearance before the end, no worries), **MaxRideRox**(sorry I keep ignoring your question about Zeke and that lot! I keep meaning to answer but then I realise that I don't really have an answer. They're either dead or infected.), **general wildcat**and new reviewers; **seabreezylady18** and **Forg0ttenemories** (I'm so pleased you've discovered my story and are enjoying it. Keep reading!)

**And the preview for the very last chapter;** _Troy gulped down the excess of saliva in his mouth. He was blinking repeatedly and looking around, almost as if his vision was returning. He parted his lips to let out quiet rasping breaths. "I'm sorry…" He whispered harshly. His head twitched. He rolled onto his hands and knees. His blank eyes found Gabriella. "I'm just too hungry…"_

The end's looking bleak ain't it.

_**xX M Xx**_


	21. Author's note

**Author's Note

* * *

**

**Apologies**

_

* * *

_

Okay guys, disaster has struck! My laptop, the only place I had saved the final chapter, has died. It literally will not turn on. Meaning I have lost EVERYTHING. Now, I haven't got the chapter written down anywhere else so I'm either going to have to re-write the whole thing (which I can barely remember at all) or get my laptop repaired or even get a new one and try to rip all my saved stuff off my old hardrive. As if all that wouldn't take long enough, I'm going on holiday in a few days which means I'll have no time to even think about this until September and by then I'll be back at school! UGH!

You won't believe how devastated I am. I really don't know what I'm going to do. I just hope you guys aren't too fed up with me. I absolutely promise that I will put the final chapter up eventually. It just may take a while. In the meantime I might just do a few irrelevant one-shots to fill the time and keep people entertained. As I said, I'm so very sorry for being such an awful updator. Bear with me!! I beg of you.

* * *

_**xX M Xx**_


	22. The End

**Outbreak**

**------------------------**

**20. The End**

**------------------------  
**

Troy blinked. There was a flicker of familiarity in his face before he dived, teeth-first, at Chad's exposed neck.

Knowing that he would have to act fast in order to save his own life, Chad did the first thing that came to mind. With all the strength he had, he quickly leant upwards off the ground so his forehead crashed into Troy's cheek. His vision darkened and blurred for a moment and then returned to clarity to reveal that his forceful head-butt had managed to knock Troy onto the floor. And, while Troy struggled to regain awareness of his location, Chad seized the opportunity and grabbed his best friend from behind. He pressed his chest to Troy's back and pulled the writhing boys arms backwards despite his physical thrashes and verbal moans of protest. In this position, as uncomfortable and restricted as it was, Chad had managed to limit the amount of movement that Troy would be able to achieve. This bought him a few seconds to contemplate his next move.

Relief made his heart swell joyously as he looked up to see Taylor and Gabriella tentatively entering the room. They had kept at a distance for many reasons, the most obvious being that if Chad failed at his attempts to apprehend Troy, they'd be the next victims. But also, their only way of aiding Chad would be to kill Troy and that was something that neither girls could quite accept.

Now though, they were relatively confident that the situation was under control, and for that reason, they had decided to proceed with the plan of injection. They crept quietly over the wooden floorboards of what they now realised was Gabriella's work room. The syringe was drawn and ready in Taylor's hand and Gabriella was half-prepared to face either failure or success.

Chad nodded to confirm that he was ready. He was more than ready. Although he was sat down, Troy's constant struggling was taking its toll on Chad's energy. Not only was every muscle in his body screaming, he could faintly feel the slow trickle of his blood which seemed to stem from the unhealed scab of his bullet wound; the stitches of which had apparently been torn open. And the whole head-butting thing was suddenly starting to feel like a bad idea as his brain throbbed incessantly. So, he was ready. Ready for this to be over.

It was almost as if Troy sensed what was coming as Taylor stood over him, doubtful of her own homemade, untested potion. He began to shake his head, groaning and spitting, bucking his legs and trying to free his arms of Chad's grip.

"Do it!" Gabriella called from where she stood in the centre of the room. She couldn't bear to see him like this anymore. She knew that the chances of anything happening were slimmer than slim. She knew that she was probably about to witness his death. But it was the waiting that got to her most. _Waiting _to watch him die. It was unbearable. "Now, Taylor!"

Taylor needed no further encouragement. She crouched by the boys, lifted the syringe and then sent the needle plummeting through the flesh of Troy's thigh. The liquid seeped into him. She retracted the injection and took a step back. They awaited result.

The change was immediate. If Chad had thought Troy's squirming was bad a few moments ago, he certainly wasn't prepared for the fight that came next. Troy's body was both tense and nimble as he manoeuvred his limbs in a crazed manner and threw his weight from left to right and up and down. He was quickly able to free his arms from where Chad held them and did not hesitate to send one of his elbows into Chad's nose.

The force behind that single hit was unimaginable. Not only was Chad knocked backwards, he was sent sliding on his backside, across the varnished floor and into the corner of the room. He wouldn't have stopped either, if it wasn't for the desk he bumped into. And even _that _wasn't enough. Chad had flown so quickly across the room, hurled with such power that, upon impact with his back, the leg of the desk collapsed, leaving all of Gabriella's hard work- the almost complete radio and all- clattering to the floor.

The brief moment that followed was impossibly more than silent. For just a second, it was as if sound didn't even exist. All was still. Gabriella watched her boyfriend, petrified by his newly developed, superhuman strength. It was as if the cure had done nothing but worsen his flaws. He was no longer an animal, but a monster. Taylor resisted the urge to even glance at Chad. She was too afraid that even the slightest movement of her eye could spark another outburst in Troy. So she refused to blink or breathe or even think too hard, deterred by the possible consequences.

Troy gulped down the excess of saliva in his mouth. He was blinking repeatedly and looking around, almost as if his vision was returning. He parted his lips to let out quiet rasping breaths. "I'm sorry…" He whispered harshly. His head twitched. He rolled onto his hands and knees. His blank eyes found Gabriella. "I'm just too hungry…"

Gabriella thought it was a good sign that he was talking. And the way he was 'looking' at her meant that not only was intelligence returning, so was his sight. However, her happiness was short lived. Insanity flared through every feature of Troy's face. Pushed by pain and starvation, he jumped to his feet and ran at her.

She was frozen to the spot as if the soles of her feet were super-glued to the floor. She didn't run. Nor scream. Just watched as in a few sprinted strides, he neared. His hands stretched out, claws glinting in the moonlight. He was inches from her. Taylor was screaming. _Run Gabriella, move! _ She saw the sweat trickle down his neck. He was centimetres from her. She could smell the soap with which he had last washed his hands. He was right in front of her. The tips of his talons microscopically near.

Then, he stopped.

He didn't slow down. He just fell. He crumbled onto the floor where he lay in a messy, motionless heap. Face-down. Arms and legs sprawled out like road-kill. Gabriella dared to breathe. He'd been so close. The nail of his index finger had gently grazed her temple. And now he lay at her feet. Dead?

She dropped to her knees beside him, forgetting the hesitance and fear, and rolled him onto his back. His eyes were shut. And, something she'd never forget, he was smiling. It was almost unnoticeable, especially in the dim light, but she saw it. The corners of his mouth were drawn ever so slightly upwards. And it wasn't a smug smile, nor a bitter or sarcastic one. It was a smile of relief. Of peace. Bliss.

"I killed him…" Taylor realised with devastation.

His chest wasn't rising or falling. He wasn't breathing. And she was sure that if she checked she wouldn't find a pulse. Her medicine, her _cure, _had taken his life. And although she'd considered this outcome as inevitable all along, the shock of it becoming reality was far too much to handle. Her devastated gaze remained on his lifeless body, even as the shapes in front of her clouded with tears.

She watched, silently sobbing, as Gabriella lay down next to her fallen boyfriend. Unaware of Taylor watching and unfazed by the presence of anyone else in the room, Gabriella rested her head and hand over Troy's chest and let her legs twine with his. Her ear was pressed to his heart as she waited for it to beat. She waited for it to beat. But it didn't.

They lay together on the hard floor, a shattering sight of loss and devastation. While miracles failed to suddenly revive Troy, Gabriella stared blankly at the fabric of his shirt as she toyed with it carelessly between her fingers. She'd stay like this forever, she thought. She'd never let him go. As long as she held onto him, she'd have him. She even smiled at the realisation that he was still warm. With hopeless desire, she glanced up at his face, as if expecting his eyes to suddenly be open.

Gabriella had never believed in the clichéd term 'heartbroken' until now. Now, as she looked at the boy she loved, she understood how it felt to have every dream you ever had, every memory of happy moments and everything you ever loved dissolve. Dissolve right in front of her. She didn't cry. Because that wouldn't be enough. She wanted to tear out her hair and rip open her chest with her bare hands and squeeze her aching heart back to life. She wanted to cough out her brain and beat at it until it forgot about Troy and how much she loved him. She wanted t—

Troy's eyes snapped open.

Gabriella sat upright and watched as he blinked at the ceiling. Whimpering and shaking, he looked around with confusion. He shut his eyes again and held his head in his hands. His teeth clenched while a white froth leaked through the small gaps between them and trickled down his chin. His legs bent and flexed as if they had a mind of their own. His chest rose and fell at a pace not natural for a human.

She simply spoke his name. Barely whispered it. But there was so much control and command in her voice that she instantly had his attention. His eyelids raised slowly and he met her gaze at once. His fearsome twitching lessened and breathing slowed. And never did his eyes leave hers. His crystal blue eyes.

When all was finally still, he opened his mouth to speak. Gabriella stopped him by putting a finger to his lips, too pleased that he was awake to register any kind of conversation. Then, running her fingers through his hair, she leant down and replaced the finger that was pressed to his mouth with her lips. She kissed him softly, finally letting her tears run out of her eyes and onto his cheeks. "You're back." She whispered, needing to say the words to believe it. She'd really thought that he was…. "You're back."

He raised a hand, feeling weak but determined, and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I'm back." He assured her, leaning upward to give her a quick peck on the tip of her nose. "And I am so sorry."

He remembered it all. Every second of it. He remembered the hunger, the heightened senses and the passion for violence. But most of all, he remembered the fear. That of his friends, which he'd witnessed all too often. But also, his own fear. Because he knew what he was doing but couldn't control it. He knew that he loved Gabriella but his urge to taste her overpowered that. And he'd been so afraid of, not only watching her die, but being the one to cause her death. And he was _still _afraid. His fear now was that they would not accept his apology. He knew that, after everything, he didn't deserve their forgiveness. He just hoped that they'd realise he had no choice.

Gabriella must have sensed his doubt because she leant back down so that her face was level with his and whispered in his ear; "I told you before Wildcat, I'll always love you." She drew back, but not before planting a tender kiss on his earlobe. They smiled at each other, more than pleased at the day's eventual outcome. Everything was back to normal. This was the closest to happily ever after that they'd get.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." Came Chad's voice suddenly, breaking the blissful couple from their bubble of affection. "Thanks for asking." He responded to the question that no-one had yet asked.

Troy sat up and Gabriella turned around to see Chad being helped to his feet by Taylor. His head was down as he brushed the dust from his boxer shorts so neither of them could tell if the irritation in his voice was genuine or a joke. Troy prayed that it would be the latter, the last thing he wanted was a dispute with his best-friend after all this, but when Chad looked up, his face told a very different and discouraging story.

"Oh…" Troy exhaled, as Chad used the back of his hand to wipe at the blood that oozed heavily from his nose and stained the entire bottom half of his face crimson. It was dribbling into his mouth and tinted his teeth pink. It didn't stop at his chin, working its way down his neck until it reached the collar of his plain, white t-shirt. The first time in eight months that Chad had worn white…

Chad continued to stare at Troy, his facial expression unreadable, as Taylor tucked one hand under his chin and used the other to wordlessly dab at his top lip with her sleeve. He showed neither anger nor humour and his lack of emotion was quickly becoming unnerving. Troy wasn't sure if he was about to lose a best-friend and brother over a ghastly nosebleed.

"Listen-." Troy began to defend himself, only to be cut off a second later with his apology unheard.

Chad shook his head and raised his hands as a sort of barrier against Troy's words. "No." Was all he said. One word and Troy had never felt such dread. The room fell worryingly silent. "No," Chad said again. "Don't apologise." The red mess of his face transformed into a smile. "It's cool. I'm cool. It's over."

Laughing with relief, Troy shared Chad's smiled and nodded with appreciation. He slung his arm around Gabriella, grateful for how things had eventually turned out. They were happy now. Of course, there would be struggles ahead, but they had each other and, cheesy as it sounds, they had love. Their bond of friendship was so tough that it had overcome this. They felt now that they could take on anything and come out the other end stronger than ever.

"But, seriously man," Chad spoke up unexpectedly. "I think you broke my face."

Troy chuckled, even though he knew Chad was only half-joking. What amused him, and apparently Gabriella too as she let out a quiet giggle, was Taylor's unnecessary concern. It was only a nosebleed after all, and yet she hadn't stopped wiping at the blood, despite the fact that her attempts were making little difference. She only stopped when Chad winced and pulled away slightly.

"It's not helping, is it?" She realised finally. She allowed her hands to drop to her sides with defeat.

Chad shook his head. He noticed that Taylor almost seemed guilty for her failure at fixing him and knew exactly what would benefit them both. He'd give her a way to make him feel better, putting her mind at ease, and he'd get the attention and mollycoddling that he so desperately craved. "I know what _will_ help, though."

Still sitting on the floor in the centre of the room, Troy and Gabriella could only watch and feel awkwardly voyeuristic as Chad placed both of his hands on the small of Taylor's back and tugged her towards him so their chests touched.

"Uh-uh." Taylor resisted, pulling away slightly. "No kisses."

Troy sniggered at the childishly rejected look on Chad's face.

Chad ignored his best-friends obvious amusement and pouted. "Why?" he whined, puckering his lips in the process.

Raising an eyebrow, Taylor pointed out the obvious. "You're face is covered in blood Chad." She explained. "I love you but-… that's just nasty."

Chad opened his mouth to protest, maybe even beg, but Taylor's attention was already elsewhere. The faint smile on her face disappeared as she released herself completely from Chad's embrace and she bent down to retrieve what had caught her attention on the floor.

"Gabriella." She sighed, standing and holding up the radio Gabriella had been working on. Before, it had looked almost complete, but in the scuffle it had been knocked from the table and was in worse condition than when they had found it. Wires were hanging out and most of the outer plastic was cracked.

With an exasperated huff, Gabriella shut her eyes to shield herself from seeing months-worth of work literally shattered. It all felt like a bit of a waste. All that time she'd spent. All the books she'd read. But at the same time, it didn't bother her as much as it could have. Because, when she thought about it, things were already okay for them.

With Troy cured, they could get on with their lives. Obviously they'd still have the struggle of day-to-day life, avoiding future infection and surviving off basic rations of food, but at least they were together. With each others support, they were sure to prosper. And any hurdle ahead could be overcome as a team.

An unusual crackling noise filled the room and all eyes fell on the crumbling radio in Taylor's hands. A light on what had once been the front of the contraption was flashing green.

Gabriella's breath was knocked clean out of her as she realised that her radio had finally come to life. "That's' the first time it-."

"Shh!" Taylor held up a hand and raised the radio to her ear. "Listen." She toggled a few of the switches and knobs, though she had no idea what she was doing and narrowed her eyes while straining her ears to pick up the slightest of sounds. "We're getting a signal."

Shock, relief and doubt were flying around the room as the crackling quietened. All of these emotions suddenly dissolved into a mixture of disbelief and joy as a strangely familiar female voice came floating out of the small black radio.

"…_are more survivors_." The first words were hard to understand, muffled and unclear, but as she continued, the voice became more and more comprehensible. "_I repeat_," She spoke pointedly. "_If there is anyone out there that has avoided the infection, you are not alone_."

Troy, Chad, Taylor and Gabriella shared a bewildered glance at each other, each with the identical uncertain smiles on their faces. This was the sort of thing they only expected from dreams. They'd learnt a long time ago that reality would never offer them such a miracle. But, as the voice continued, it became harder and harder to deny that salvation was on its way.

"_There is a camp for survivors which can be found just off route 15._"

Chad grabbed a pen off the table beside him and scrawled the words 'route 15' onto his palm. Desperate to hear more, Troy and Gabriella simultaneously got up off the ground and approached Taylor. They leant in towards the radio and waited for further announcement.

"_We have fresh food, electricity and clean, warm water_."

Taylor grinned from ear to ear as Chad wrapped his arm around her waist. Still holding the radio out with one hand, she snuggled the rest of her body into his and allowed herself to melt into his hold. His presence coupled with this unbelievably fantastic news gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside that she never thought she'd experience.

The warm and fuzzy seemed to emit from her into her surrounding friends. On impulse, Troy moved behind Gabriella and enveloped her entire body into his arms. He held her so close that they seemed to become one being. Troy rested his head on her shoulder and she leaned to the side so that their cheeks touched. Their smiles were matched in brilliance and joy.

"_Broadcasting on al frequencies from Las Vegas, Nevada..._"

It was then that they realised why the woman on the radio sounded so strangely familiar. She wasn't a famous newsreader or an important governmental figure. They hadn't heard her before on TV. She was someone who they thought they'd never hear from again. Someone who'd been right all along. A survivors' camp in Vegas. Clearly not as unlikely as they'd dismissed it to be.

"_This is Sharpay Evans_."

She concluded proudly. They could almost hear the smug grin on her face. But they couldn't help but laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. The past torturous year of their life was about to come to an end. And, for that, they had Sharpay to thank. Sharpay was their angel. Their hope when hope was lost.

It finally dawned on them that their days of fear and danger were over. That constant struggle, that fight to survive, was no more. From now on, they could truly get on with their lives. Rebuild and reshape their previously doomed futures.

Today, life began again.

"_And guys_, _if you're listening_…"

The radio crackled unexpectedly, and they knew at once that what was to follow was directed at them.

"_I hate to say I told you so_."

**END**

**-----------------**

Ok, so I re-wrote it as quickly as I could but unfortunately I think it's lacking in the quality of the original. This has been so much fun to write! And all your feedback has made it so much more worthwhile. I think this has been my favourite fiction to write, thank you everyone for the reviews. I'm already trying to think up a new story (but I'm kind of stumped as of yet- if you have any ideas dont hesitate to make a suggestion and I'll see what I can do!) I start college on Monday so I probably won't have too much time to write but I know I'll fit it in somehow.

Once again, thanks to all readers and reviewers!

**_xX M Xx_  
**


End file.
